


Rattled Star

by FairyPrincessKjar



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: ACOTAR - Freeform, F/M, Fanfiction, Fangirls, I'm trash for feysand, booknerd, my writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-03-30 04:18:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 41,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13942455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyPrincessKjar/pseuds/FairyPrincessKjar
Summary: Her older sisters would tease her endlessly.  Her boyfriend, Tamlin, would tell her that she was being stupid.  For those reasons, and also wanting a taste of freedom, Feyre Archeron didn’t tell anyone she was going to a book signing featuring her favorite author.  After nearly missing the event entirely, she meets a violet eyed stranger.  She knows she should forget all about him.  After all, she’s in love with Tamlin. Isn’t she?





	1. Chapter 1

Feyre bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, unable to completely rein in her exuberance.  She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this excited over anything. She had once felt that same excitement each and every time she and Tamlin were together.  The beginning of their relationship had been straight out of a fairy tale. Tamlin had been her knight in shining armor, a perfect Prince Charming. Lately though, Feyre felt as if she were living life in a gilded cage.  If she were being completely honest, this was not the happily ever after she had envisioned for herself. Feyre pushed the images of her boyfriend and their problems out of her mind. Not today. Today was for her. She could figure out what to do about her tumultuous relationship another time.  

Feyre craned her neck in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the beginning of the line.  By her best estimate, there were about fifty individuals in the line ahead of her. Unbeknownst to Tamlin or her family, Feyre had taken the day off from the bookstore in which she worked.  Her boss, Helion, had been taken aback when Feyre had requested the day off. As she was usually begging for extra shifts, requesting time off had been unusual for her. Feyre liked her job, for the most part.  She enjoyed conversing with the customers that came in. It also supplied her an ample amount of reading material. Helion didn’t mind if she read, as long as the store was completely empty as she did so. The pay was decent enough, considering she hadn’t been able to graduate from high school.  The only downside of the job was that it left her with little free time, or money, to paint. She had once dreamed of being an artist someday. Painting supplies were, unfortunately, a luxury she could not afford. 

In a way, her job was the reason she was currently waiting in line outside a rival bookstore.  After a particularly bad fight with Tam, Feyre had needed an escape- something to take her mind off of everything.  She had searched the shelves of the store until coming upon a particularly interesting looking book, Throne of Glass.  Within less than hour, she had fallen in love with the world of Erilea and its characters. The  heroine , Aelin, was a particular favorite of hers.  Feyre envied her guts and bravery. If faced with similar perils, Feyre was sure she would never survive.  Hell, she could barely survive an argument with Nesta. 

A few months ago, she had come across an advertisement for an upcoming book signing.  As Feyre realized that she might have an opportunity to meet her favorite author, she squealed loud enough to send Helion scurrying out of the office to see if she were alright.

Though the event was still hours away, she had wanted to arrive early.  As the line was continuing to grow rapidly behind her, Feyre was grateful she had.  She fingered her ticket anxiously, hoping to get inside soon. She was dying to meet “The Queen,” as fans called her.  Though Feyre didn’t have the money to support her painting passion, she still drew and sketched frequently. Over the past few months, she had done a few sketches of her favorite characters and scenes from the books.  She had made sure to keep them safely hidden away from the prying eyes of her family, though. Feyre had brought a few of her sketches with her in the hopes that she might be able to get one signed. There was one peice that she was particularly proud of-  Abraxos and Manon flying in the night sky. It had taken hours to get it just right. Feyre was hoping to present it to The Queen as a gift. She had placed the sketches inside her book for safe keeping. Feyre opened up her book and gasped in horror. Her sketches were gone! 

Shit. Shit. Shit. 

She must have left them in the car.  She eyed her yellow beetle, which was on the other side of the parking lot.  Leave the line or go in without the drawings. She stomped her foot in frustration, swearing viciously.  Seeing no other choice, Feyre abandoned her spot in line and ran towards her vehicle. Her eyes roamed the parking lot as she sprinted, just in case she had dropped them earlier in the day. 

After unlocking the car, she ripped the door open.  Feyre frantically searched the entire car. Nothing.  NO NO NO NO NO! This could not be happening! 

“Fuck,” she hissed, slamming her hand on the top of the car in anger.  She pinched the bridge of her nose and set lose a scream. 

“Miss? Are you alright?” a male voice asked.  

Startled by the sound of his voice, Feyre whipped around.  She swore under her breath as she smacked her head against the car door.  As her eyes began to fill with tears, she covered her face with her hands.  She was most likely going to have a bruise now. Shit! How was she going to explain that to Tamlin?  How had everything turned into such a disaster? 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you.  Are you okay!” 

Feyre hastily wiped her eyes and turned to face the offending individual.  Couldn’t he see that she didn’t need his help? As her eyes found his, a single thought entered her mind.  The man standing before her was the most beautiful man she had ever seen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave comments and feedback!! I love reading your thoughts! Hope you enjoyed it :) 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	2. Chapter 2

Feyre was utterly entranced, held captive by a pair of impossibly violet eyes.  No, she was wrong. They weren’t actually violet, but blue so deep that they only appeared to be so.  She itched to get her hands on a paint brush, though she knew she would never be able to match the exact shade of his eyes, no matter how hard she tried.  She wrenched her eyes away from his, shaking her head in a futile attempt to regain her composer. She studied the stranger, taking in his raven black hair and finely sculpted cheekbones.  

He was clad in a black, button down shirt and denim jeans.  The shirt was form fitting, expertly emphasizing his muscular physique.  The obviously expensive clothes he donned had probably cost more money than the entire contents of her closet.  Her gaze lingered on the collar of his shirt, where he tiniest hint of a tattoo peeked out. Cauldron, she loved tattoos! Feyre had always been fascinated by the different methods of tattooing and their histories.  She had always wanted to get one, but after Tamlin had mentioned once how tattoos were uncouth, she had decided against it. Maybe he would let her take a look at the design. How far down his chest did it stretch? Her gaze drifted farther down his body until the sound of his laughter had her eyes flying up to meet his.      

“I’m Rhysand, but please call me Rhys.  What’s your name, Darling?” he purred. Heat crept along her neck and cheeks as he smirked at her.  It was as though he somehow knew exactly what she had been thinking. She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.  How dare he call her Darling? Even if she had been thinking about the best way to get him out of his shirt. Just to see his tattoo, that is.    

Feyre sneered, “Do not call me Darling.”

“Well, seeing that you have not told me your name yet, Darling, what else am I supposed to call you?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.   

She sighed in exasperation and said, “Feyre. My name is Feyre.”

Rhys grinned impishly at her and said, “Nice to meet you, Feyre Darling.”

She drawled, “Was there something you wanted, Rhysand? Or is it that you simply enjoy sneaking up on people?”

“I didn’t intend to startle you,” he said, equal parts amusement and sincerity.    

Feyre raised a brow, waiting for him to continue.  

He stuck his hands in his pockets and said rather indifferently, “It looked as though you were getting into a fight with your car earlier.  I came over here to make sure everything was alright.” he paused, placing a hand on his chin thoughtfully. “Your car won, I presume?”

She hissed, “Prick.”

“Come now, Feyre Darling.  Is that the proper way to treat someone who is simply trying to help you?” he said in mock indignation.  

“I appreciate you coming over here, but I do not need any help. I’m just fine.”

“Hmmm… your car would say otherwise.”

“Are you always this insufferable, or is today a special occasion?”

He grinned lazily at her, “Oh, today is definitely a special occasion.”

Genuinely curious, she asked, “And why is that, Rhysand?”

“Because, Feye Darling, I got to meet you,” he purred.  

Feyre’s checks turned a bright shade of red as she muttered under her breath.  

“I didn’t quite catch that, Darling.”

“I said that you are a shameless flirt,” she hissed. “Isn’t there some other place you should be?”

“I’m actually supposed to be going to this book signing event thing, but talking to you is much more enjoyable.”  

Feyre’s jaw nearly hit the ground. “You’re kidding me!”

“What?”  

“You are going to the Throne of Glass book signing?” she asked in disbelief.

He smirked, “What? Is that so hard to believe?”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Uhhh… yeah, actually.  You don’t really seem like you’d be a fan of the series.”

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and said, “In all honesty, I’m here with my little sister.  She’s a huge fan of the books and somehow I got conned into taking her.” Feyre tried not to acknowledge how completely adorable that was.

“Ohh, what a good big brother you are!” she teased.

“You’re here for the book signing too, aren’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Feyre felt as though she were at a distinct disadvantage.  Rhys had known her for all of five minutes and could already read her like an open book.  

He flashed her a cocky smile and said, “Maybe I can read your mind.”

“Not likely,” she scoffed.

“Or maybe the book in your hand gave it away,” he chuckled.  Feyre, momentarily surprised, glanced down at the book she held.  She had forgotten about the book she had brought along in the off chance she would be able to get it signed.  Her face crumpled. She couldn’t believe how careless she had been in losing those sketches.

“What is it, Feyre Darling?”

“I made a few sketches. Nothing special… just a few of my favorite scenes from the book.  Anyways, I was hoping to get them signed today, but I lost them,” Feyre said as a tear ran down her cheek.  She wiped it away angrily. Rhys’s eyes lit up with joy and a smile overtook his face.

“You mean these?” he asked.  He reached into his back pocket and pulled out her sketches.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and constructive criticism! I love reading your thoughts. Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	3. Chapter 3

“My sketches!” Feyre shrieked, yanking the drawings from Rhys’s outstretched hand.  She hurriedly inspected the artwork, sighing in relief. Thank the Cauldron they hadn’t been damaged at all!  She looked back up at Rhys, who happened to be gazing at her with a rather smug expression on his face. 

“Where did you get these?” Feyre asked, with a slightly accusing edge to her voice.  

“My sister, Dilys, found them on the ground while we were in line,” he said, his smile faltering slightly.  

“And what, you were just going to keep them?” she hissed. 

Rhys ran a hand through his hair and said, “No.  After Dily recognized a few of the scenes you drew, we figured that the individual who had lost them was most likely attending the exact same event as us.  We were hoping we would get the chance to return them to their rightful owner at some point today.”

“Well, now you have.  So, you’re free to go.”  Feyre turned her back to him, effectively dismissing his presence entirely.  After pressing the lock button, she slammed the car door shut. 

“I’m willing to accept your thanks at any time, Feyre Darling,” Rhys said, casually slipping his hands back into his pockets.  Feyre whipped back around, viciously placing her hands on her hips. 

“Thank you? You expect me to thank you?  For all I know, you snatched the sketches out of my back pocket while I wasn’t looking,” she huffed. While Feyre knew that he had done no such thing, all she could see was red.  His words were kindling to her fiery temper. Maybe smacking him in the face with her book would wipe that arrogant smirk off his face! What a prick! 

Rhys gave her a wolfish grin and purred, “Trust me Darling, if I were anywhere near your pants, you’d know.” 

Feyre sputtered, “I… you… what the…”  He began to chuckle softly at her reaction.  She narrowed her eyes at him and sneered, “How dare you! You’re a real asshole, you know that?”   

He shrugged nonchalantly, “I’ve been called worse.”

She snorted, “Why does that not surprise me?” 

Rhys’s eyes fixed on hers, effectively pinning her in place. “We honestly were just trying to help, Feyre.  I sincerely apologize if I upset you.” 

Feyre studied him, biting her lip as she did so.  The look he was giving her was full of sincerity. For some reason unknown to her, she wanted to trust this violet eyed stranger.  

Rhys glanced down at his watch.  “Well, as fun as this conversation has been Darling, we really should make our way back to the line.  Unless you’re planning to forgo the event entirely, that is.”

Feyre turned her attention to the massive line that was beginning to wrap around the side of the building.  

She pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned in frustration, “So much for getting here early.”

Rhys held his arm out for her and grinned broadly. “Never fear.  My sister is waiting in the line as we speak. You are welcome to cut in and join us.” 

Feyre considered his invitation before giving him a hesitant smile. “Sure. What have I got to lose at this point.”  She motioned for him to lead the way and then slid her hands into her pockets, refusing to take his arm. He smirked knowingly at her and began strolling towards the line. Copying her actions, he placed his hands in his pockets as they walked.  He led her to a spot in the line that was actually not far from where she had been earlier.

“Rhys! Cauldron, it’s about damn time!” 

“Such language, Dily,” he gasped in mock disdain.   

“Pfffff. Like you can talk, big brother. You’re worse than Amren.” 

Feyre studied the girl.  She seemed to be around sixteen or seventeen years old, just a few years younger than Feyre was herself.  Her raven hair was braided into a loose plait that hung over a shoulder. Even if Feyre hadn’t known they were brother and sister, it was obvious they were related.  Her eyes were the same shade of deep blue as her brother’s, but were ringed with a deep emerald green. For the second time, that day, Feyre’s hands itched to paint. She briefly wondered if everyone in their family had eyes just as beautiful.

“Behave yourself. We have company,”  he said. The young girl turned to face Feyre, looking thoroughly unimpressed at what she saw.  

Feyre smiled slightly and stuck her hand out. “Hi. I’m Feyre.” 

Dilys stared at Feyre’s outstretched hand and then turned slowly to her brother, brows raised expectantly.  

“The sketches we found earlier belong to her.”

“You drew those?” she asked, turning back towards Feyre.  Her face was filled with excitement. 

Feyre nodded her her, “I know they’re not that great, but I was hoping to get them signed.”

“Are you kidding me? They are fantastic! I’ve never seen better fanart. Anywhere.  You’re an amazing artist!” Feyre turned bright shade of red, unused to compliments.  

She stammered, “Thank you.  They’re just sketches, though.  I’m not an artist.” Both brother and sister looked at her incredulously.   

“I may not know the first thing about these books, but those sketches are beautiful, Feyre Darling.”

Dilys snickered, “Awwwww! Did Rhyses Pieces get him a girlfriend?”  He glared at his sister as his cheeks flushed red. He looked rather adorable when embarrassed.  Ugh, she shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. She was with Tamlin, after all. 

“Dilys Gwendolen Nos! Do not make me regret bringing you here,” he hissed.

Dily rolled her eyes and said, “Prick.”  Feyre tried to hold back the laugh, but it was no use.  Rhys’s sister shot her a conspiratorial look and began giggling right along with her.

Rhys groaned, “Cauldron boil me.  I should have known you two would be thick as thieves.  I’m outnumbered.” 

Dily linked her arm with Feyre’s and said, “I have a feeling that we are going to become great friends.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, feel free to leave comments and constructive criticism! 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	4. Chapter 4

Several hours later, Feyre skipped out of the bookstore, arm in arm with Dilys. She felt as though she had been living the last few hours in a dream, one in which she desperately didn’t want to wake up from.

“That was amazing!” Dilys squealed, nearly jumping up and down in her excitement.

“I know, right!?! I can’t believe that we actually got to meet her!” Feyre exclaimed, an enormous smile spreading across her face.

“I expect an amazing birthday present after this spectacle, by the way,” Rhys said, strolling along beside his sister. Dilys cocked her head to the side and gave him a withering glare.

“Hmmm… we’ll see about that.”

“Hey, it’s only fair. I had to put up with your dorky nonsense all day long. It wasn’t very easy, I’ll have you know,” he teased. Feyre sniggered as Dilys stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh, real mature! I’ll remember this the next time you try begging me for a favor,” Rhys snapped. Though he was frowning, Feyre could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward, as if he were fighting a smile. As the two siblings continued bickering, Feyre noticed that they were veering off towards the right, taking her in the complete opposite direction of her car.

Feyre had thoroughly enjoyed spending the afternoon with Rhys and Dilys. Of course the signing had been amazing, but Feyre had the distinct impression that it wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun had she not met them. Knowing that she would have to say goodbye soon made her feel surprisingly gloomy. She couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed as much as she had today. Feyre slowly came to a stop, freeing her arm from Dilys’s. Both Rhys and Dilys turned to look at her, brows furrowed in concern.

She answered their silent question by saying, “My car is the other way. It was nice meeting you two. Thanks for letting me tag along with you today.”

“Oh no! You’re not going anywhere yet. You’re coming with us to get ice cream. There’s a shop just down the street that we’ve gone to ever since we were kids. It's amazing!” she said.

“I don’t know. I should probably get going. Besides, you’ve had to put up with me long enough as it is.”

“Don’t be silly, Fey. We want you to come,” she said, tone indicating that she wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

Feyre’s brows shot up. “Fey?” she snorted.

“What? It suits you… Anyways, you’re coming right?”

Feyre tried ignoring the adorably hopeful expression on Rhys’s face. She bit her bottom lip and glanced down at her watch. There was still about two hours before she was supposed to be meeting Tamlin at his place for dinner. She should still have plenty of time to get back home and change beforehand. Since she normally didn’t eat any sweets, Feyre was rather looking forward to indulging in a scoop of ice cream. Tamlin didn’t like her eating a lot of unhealthy foods. He would become incredibly condescending if she did, often saying he didn’t want a girlfriend who was overweight. Over the last few months, she had found it was easier to simply stay away from those sorts of food, no matter how much she craved them.

“Sure. Why not. Thanks Dilys,” Feyre said eagerly.

“Ugh, only my grandparents call me that!” she groaned. “Call me Dily.”

Feyre smirked, “Hmmm… since you call him Rhyses Pieces does that mean I get to call you Dill Pickle?” To her delight, Rhys doubled over and began roaring with laughter.

“Feyre Darling, I knew I liked you for a reason!” he managed to get out. Feyre instantly flushed a deep shade of red.

Dily rolled her eyes and groaned, “Cauldron save me. I’m going to be stuck with that name now, aren’t I?”

“Payback is a bitch, little sister,” he said with a saccharine smile.

Dily continued to grumble until they arrived at an ice cream parlor Feyre had never noticed before. The whole thing was decorated in the style of a retro, 1950s diner. After ordering their ice cream, they found their way over to a booth in the corner. Rhys had one side of the table to himself, while Feyre shared the other side with Dily.

Dily turned towards Feyre and said, “Oh, I meant to ask you earlier… where did you learn to draw like that? Your sketches are amazing!”

“Well… ummm… I’ve never actually taken any lessons, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve always loved art, painting in particular. I wish I had more time, not to mention an endless supply of paint, but I draw whenever I get the chance.”

“Have you considered going to an art school. You’re seriously talented!” Rhys asked.

Feyre looked down at her hands as she said quietly, “I would love to go to an art school, but my family can’t afford it.” She was too ashamed to admit she had needed to dropout of high school in order to get a job. Being the sole breadwinner for her family had meant that she needed more hours than a part time after school job would offer.

Wanting to shift the attention from her, she asked, “Are you in school still, Rhys?”

“Yup, at Prythian University. I’m going to graduate in may, thank the Cauldron.”

“Whatever you do Feyre, do not ask him anything else about it. Unless you want to be bored to tears, that is.”

Rhys sighed dramatically, “Dilys seems to think my goal opening my own publishing company is lame. She wishes I had chosen something with a little more… pizazz.”

Dily clucked her tongue, “It is lame.”

“Well, I work in a used bookstore. That’s much worse than owning your own company, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Ugh. The two of you are so perfect for each other, it’s sickening! Rhys, you should just go ahead and ask her out already.”

Rhys’s ice cream cone froze in mid air, inches from his face. Feyre wasn’t certain who was a deeper shade of red at the moment. One thing she did know, was that she would have to turn him down if he did ask. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably at the thought. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments amd construction criticisms! I love reading your thoughts! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!  
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	5. Chapter 5

“By the Cauldron, Dilys! What hell is wrong with you?” Rhys hissed.

“Oh, I’m sorry!  Was it supposed to be some big, huge secret that you have the hots for Fey?” she asked with an impish grin.  Rhys groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Why does my family insist on embarrassing me all the time?” he asked, voice muffled slightly.  

Of course Rhys wasn’t interested in her romantically.  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so utterly mortified at the idea of having to ask her out.  Feyre couldn’t help but to feel a tinge of disappointment, though. What was the matter with her? She had a boyfriend, for Cauldron’s sake.  She should be feeling relieved that Rhys wasn’t attracted to her and wasn’t planning on asking her out.

She pushed aside her conflicting emotions and said, “Pickles, he does not have the hots for me.  We literally just became friends… today.” Rhys had slowly removed his hands from his face. As their eyes met, a small blush crept up her cheeks.  Feyre couldn’t make heads or tails of the look he was giving her. Probably nothing other than annoyance at the situation his little sister had put him in.  Feyre needed to stop this, whatever this was, before it got any more dangerous. She tore her eyes away from Rhys’s, opting instead to look down at her hands.  

“And besides, I already have a boyfriend,” she admitted reluctantly.

Dily’s face fell as she gasped, “What? No! You’re kidding me?”

“What? Is it that hard to believe that I have a boyfriend?” she huffed.  

“No, that’s not what I meant.  It’s just that… well, I think you and Rhys would make a really great couple.”

Feyre snorted, “Not likely. We would probably end up ripping each other to shreds.”

“Oh, we most definitely would,” he smirked, though Feyre could have sworn a look of disappointment flashed across his face.

Dily said determinedly, “Well, there’s still hope.  Twenty bucks says you’ll be dating by Christmas.”

Feyre glanced at him with a pleading expression, “Is she always this… this…”

“Aggravating is the word I think you’re looking for, Feyre Darling.”  

“Ass,” Dily snapped, giving him a vulgar gesture.  Rhys responded in turn by sticking his tongue out.

Even though she was still slightly embarrassed, Feyre couldn’t help but to laugh at their antics.

“You two are ridiculous.  You know that, right?”

“You’re officially one of us now, Feyre Darling.  So by default, you’re ridiculous too,” Rhys said.

Feyre was touched by the sentiment.  Truth be told, she could count the number of friends she had on one hand.  Growing up, she had always been the awkward kid who couldn’t afford nice clothes.  Her classmates had mostly ignored her. Dropping out of school had not helped her friendships either.  Most days she was too busy working to worry about anything else. Sure, she was friendly with Lucien whenever she saw him, but he was more Tamlin’s friend than hers. Well, at least he had been, until that day Tam had... No, she couldn't think about that right now.  She brushed aside thoughts of Lucien for the time being.  Now was not the time to dwell on the mistakes of her past.  Not when she was lucky enough to have found Rhys and Dilys.  Smiling at each of them broadly, she wondered which of the old gods had favored her today by sending these two into her life.  She glanced down at her watch. Damn, she needed to get going or risk being late.  Not wanting to provoke an argument with Tamlin, she grabbed her purse off the seat beside her.  

“I have to get going,” she said quietly, looking back and forth between the two.

“Give me your phone,” Dilys demanded.  Feyre quirked her brow and then pulled the device out of her pocket.  

She placed it in Dily’s outstretched hand saying, “You’re not going to find any incriminating photos, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

She rolled her eyes at Feyre and said, “No, you dork.  I’m adding my number to your contacts. Text me when you get a chance.  Then I’ll have your number too.”

“I think I can manage that,” Feyre said.  She glanced down at the screen and promptly burst into a fit of giggles.

“You didn’t!?!”

“Oh, but I did.”

“Mind filling me in?” Rhys ground out, obviously not enjoying being left out.

“I put your number in too.”

“And that’s funny because…”

Feyre, “She put you in the contacts as Rhyses Peices!”  At the look on his face, Feyre began giggling once again.  

“Feel free to text me your number, Darling.  I’d hate to deprive you of my witty repartee,” Rhys purred.  

She rolled her eyes and sneered, “Prick.”

Dily slid out of the booth, allowing Feyre to slid out behind her.  

Dilys enveloped Feyre in a giant hug saying, “Text me soon!”  Feyre gave her a wide smile, nodding her head in agreement.

Turning towards Rhys, she said, “I don’t know if I ever said thank you for returning the sketches to me today.”

“No need to thank me, Feyre Darling.  I’m sure that you’ll make it up to me somehow,” he smirked.  Feyre was caught off guard as he pulled her into a hug. She returned the hug stiffly until a citrusy smell washed over her, calming her nerves entirely.   With a final wave goodbye, Feyre left the shop and began walking towards her car.

Feyre spent the entire drive home daydreaming about her favorite moments of the day.  Not long after leaving the ice cream parlor, Feyre pulled her car into the driveway of her house.  She stiffened imperceptibly as she stared at the black BMW parked in her typical spot. She sighed heavily.  What the hell was Tamlin doing at her house?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me comments and feedback! Thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	6. Chapter 6

Feyre hesitated at the threshold of the door, uncertain of what she would encounter on the other side.  Tamlin rarely stepped foot inside of her home, insisting instead that he was more comfortable spending time with her at his own house.  Though Feyre felt out of place in the luxurious manor, she found it easier to deal with than pretending not to hear the contempt in his voice every time he came around.  Compared to what Tamlin was accustomed to, she supposed her meager house was beyond reprehensible. Having someone, even her boyfriend, point out her family’s shortcoming wasn’t something she enjoyed.  

Feyre had been forced to come to terms with her family’s financial situation at a young age.  Her mother had passed away when she was just a child. Nesta, being the oldest, had the most memories of her.  Feyre was often jealous of that, seeing that she had few memories of the woman herself. After her death, their little family had slowly unraveled at the seams.  Her father, who had taken the death of his wife poorly, had turned to alcohol to ease his grief. He had somehow managed to maintain his position as a stockbroker for a few years.  That is, until the day he had shown up to a meeting with his boss drunk off his ass. He was fired swiftly, needless to say. The very next day, Feyre had gone out and applied for her very first job.  She had been the main provider for her family ever since. 

Feyre had a rather tumultuous relationship with her sisters.  Both had moved out of the house as soon as they possibly could, essentially abandoning Feyre in the process.  Nesta had left right after graduating high school. Elain had done the same the following year. They currently shared an apartment together, not far from Prythian University were they both attended. Elain was majoring in botany while Nesta was studying biomedical engineering.  While Feyre had been working to provide for the family, her sisters had focused on their education. Both had received scholarships to attend the prestigious school. Feyre tried, and failed, not to be resentful of her sisters. Someone had needed to stay and take care of their father.  Some days, she couldn’t help but wish it had not been her. 

Feyre took a deep breath and walked through the door.  Tamlin was sitting rigidly in the recliner, scowling deeply.  

“Feyre, there you are. I was worried about you,” he said quietly.  Shit. Feyre had come to learn in the course of their relationship that the calmer Tamlin seemed, the more volatile and dangerous his temper was. 

She plastered a huge, fake smile on her face and said, “Hey Tam! I didn’t expect to see you here.  I thought we were meeting at your place later on.” She sauntered over to him, leaning down to plant a kiss on his cheek.  This seemed to appease him slightly, though his brows remained furrowed. He took her hand in his, his thumb forming small circles across her knuckles. 

“I went by the bookstore, but Helion said you weren’t working today. Where have you been?” His grip on her hand tightened.

“Oh, I joined a new book club. We meet at a bookstore across town.  I thought I had told you all about it,” Feyre lied easily. Over the course of their relationship, she had become adept at hiding certain things from him in order to prevent provoking his temper.  What did that say about her? About her relationship with him?

He gave her a considering look, “I must have forgotten.  Was it enjoyable?”

She shrugged her shoulders indifferently, “It was alright.”  What she was really thinking though, was how she had just had one of the best days in her entire life.

“Well, I’m glad that you’re back.  As I said, I’ve been worried about you.”  He pulled her down so that she was sitting on his lap.     

She wrapped her arms around his neck and asked, “Is that why you’re here, because you were worried about me?” She bit her lip flirtatiously.   

Tamlin’s eyes lingered on her lips as he said, “Actually, I came over to speak to your father.  There was something that I wanted to ask him.” He pulled her closer to him, pressing his lips to hers.  Feyre pulled away quickly, glancing at her father who was sprawled out in the sofa across from them.

“What about?” she asked nervously.  Tam never really had gotten along with her father.  

“Oh, it’s a surprise. You’ll find out later,” he said with a smirk.

“I should get ready to go.  We don’t want to be late for dinner,” Feyre said as she stood up.

“Sounds good. ” he said with a smile.  At least she had been able to avoid an argument. 

“I’ll be quick, don’t worry.” She gave him a small smile and turned towards her bedroom.  Her face fell as soon as her back was turned. Why had he come all the way over here to talk to her father?  Feyre’s stomach lurched. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this part! :) 
> 
> Please leave comments and feedback! 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	7. Chapter 7

Feyre wrenched open the door of her closet and sighed heavily.  Tamlin had made reservations for this evening at one of his favorite restaurants.  Truth be told, she wasn’t a fan of the overpriced, stuffy place. She scanned her wardrobe for something appropriate, wrinkling her nose in disdain.  Tam would expect her to wear a dress tonight. It wasn’t that she was opposed to dresses, per say. She eyed the dress hanging on the end, still covered in plastic from the store.  She had bought it a few weeks ago, but had yet to have an occasion to wear it. It fit as though it had been made especially for her. She had fallen in love with it the moment she slid it onto her body.  It had been a foolish purchase, but she hadn’t been able to resist. It was a blue so dark it appeared black and shimmered in the light when she spun around. And backless, which Tamlin would hate. He would never approve of her wearing it in public.  

Instead of the blue dress, she grabbed the pale pink monstrosity Tamlin had bought for her.  The material scratched her skin unpleasantly as she pulled it over her head. She stepped into a pair of heels and stalked over to the mirror.  She cringed at her reflection. Cauldon she hated this dress. She looked ridiculous! She turned from the mirror in disgust and snatched her purse from the bed where she had deposited it earlier.  She quickly transferred the contents to her small clutch, which she only used for more formal occasions.

Straightening her shoulders, she left the sanctuary of her bedroom.  Tamlin’s eyes widened as he spotted her walking into living room. He stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek.     

“You look beautiful, Feyre,” he murmured.  She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

She walked over to her father and said, “Bye Dad.  I’ll probably be back late, so don’t wait up.”

Slurring his words slightly, he said, “Have fun tonight, honey.”  Feyre leaned down to kiss his cheek, wrinkling her nose as the strong scent of alcohol assaulted her.   

Her father sniffed, his eyes lining with silver as he said, “My baby girl! All grown up and getting…”

“We should really get going,” Tamlin interrupted, his jaw tightening.  He grasped her hand tightly and led her out of the house.

Feyre nearly fell as she attempted to climb into the car.  Damn this dress!! They rode in silence for a while, Feyre gazing absentmindedly out of the window.  She was searching for something to stay to break the silence when she realized they were no longer driving towards the restaurant.  

“Where are we going, Tam?  I thought we had reservations at Beron’s,” she asked, her forehead creasing in confusion.

“Mother and Father are having a small dinner party tonight.  They wanted us to come.”

“Oh.  Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” she ground out.  

“I didn’t think you’d mind,” he said, his expression hardening.  

Feyre pursed her lips as they pulled onto Spring Court Drive.  Tamlin’s home was luxurious, but it was nothing compared his parent’s opulent manor.  Feyre groaned inwardly. His parents had a way of making her feel extremely inadequate every time she saw them.  His mother, Abria, was especially contemptuous, a master of backhanded compliments.

“You will have an amazing time. I promise,” he said with such sincerity that Feyre felt her anger begin to fade.  It wasn’t such a big deal, she decided. Sure, she would have appreciated some warning. It wasn’t like he trying to be malicious about it.  Besides, it was just dinner with his parents and a few of their friends.

As they pulled up to the manor, the color drained from her face.  This was not just a small dinner party. Judging by the amount of vehicles already there, it was going to consist of at least a hundred people.

“I thought you said this was a small dinner party,” she squeaked.   

“It’s just a few of my father’s business associates.  No need to panic,” he said with a lopsided grin. She snapped her mouth shut in an attempt to rein in her temper.  He knew how much she hated coming to parties like this, how out of place she felt. What the hell had he been thinking?   

She watched Tamlin as he climbed out of the car and walk around to her door.  He opened the door for her and held out his hand expectantly. She crossed her arms and scowled.  She knew she was behaving petulantly, but she didn't care.

“Feyre,” he hissed.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Fine, I’m coming. Promise me one thing, though.”

“What?” he ground out.

“Promise me that you won’t leave me alone in there,” she begged.  

He gave her an half smile, “Of course, love.”  She said a silent prayer to the Cauldron and climbed out of the car.  

Feyre held onto his arm for dear life as he led her into the lion’s den.   

As Abria and Maeron, his father, greeted them, Feyre immediately regretted her decision to come inside.

Abria embraced Tamlin and murmured, “Oh, Tamlin! I’m so glad you could make it.” She glanced at Feyre and continued, “I see you brought Ms. Archeron along with you.”

“Good evening, Mrs. Foley.  Thank you for inviting me tonight,” Feyre said as brightly as she could manage.

“We didn’t invite you actually, dear.  Tamlin brought you along as his plus one, but it’s good to see you anyways,” she said in a sickly sweet voice.  Feyre’s smile faltered slightly. She looked at Tamlin beseechingly.

“Father, you remember Feyre.”

“Ah, yes. Ms. Archeron.  You work at that dumpy little used bookstore downtown, right?  How are you, dear?” Feyre fought to keep her face blank, a mask to hide behind.

She smiled blandly and said, “I’m great.  Thank you for asking. And yes, I work at Helion’s Book Emporium.” Maeron’s attention, however, was not on Feyre but on a gentleman across the room. 

He patted Tamlin’s arm and said, “There’s the Senator.  Come on. I want to introduce you to him.”

Tamlin nodded his head excitedly and said, “Excuse us, ladies.”  

And just like that, he and his father walked away.  Feyre was dismayed. Tamlin had assured her that he would not to leave her alone.  It had taken him all of five minutes for him to break that promise.

A serpentine voice beside Feyre said, “Abria, so good to see you.  Thank you for the invitation.”

Abria’s face lit up, “Ianthe, I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Of course.  I wouldn’t dream of missing one of your parties,” she simpered. Feyre surveyed the newcomer, Ianthe.  Though she was beautiful, Feyre felt she was not someone to be trifled with. There was something about the blonde that made her feel uneasy.    

Ianthe gave her an adder’s smile and said, “Hello, I’m Ianthe.  And who might you be?”

Before Feyre had a chance to speak, Tamlin’s mother cut in, “This is Feyre.  Tamlin brought her along for the evening.”

“Nice to meet you, Ianthe.” Feyre said as she held her hand out.

Feyre tried not to fidget as Ianthe scrutinized her.  Dismissing Feyre entirely, she faced Abria and quirked her brow.  Feyre lowered her arm self- consciously.

“Your kidding me? Where did he find her? The gutter?”  Feyre turned crimson.

She stammered, “Excuse me?”  She looked to Abria to come to her defense.  

Abria smiled indulgently at Ianthe, “Come now, princess.  Be nice. Tamlin’s just sowing his oats, so to speak. He’ll come to his senses soon. Trust me.  He’ll soon tire of slumming it with trash.”

Feyre’s lower lip trembled as she said, “If you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” She would not let herself cry in front of them. She wouldn't dare give them the satisfaction. She darted into the bathroom and locked the door.  Then, and only then, did she let the tears fall. Feyre crumpled to the ground and wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and feedback! Thanks for reading! :) 
> 
> FairyPreincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	8. Chapter 8

Feyre stared at her reflection in the mirror.  What the hell was she going to do now? She couldn’t possibly face Ianthe and Abria again, not after everything they had just said.  Maybe she should just have Tamlin take her home. Running away seemed like a much better option than suffering through dinner with those… with that…  ugh. How dare they? Would Tamlin be willing to leave, even after she told him what had just happened? Feyre contemplated the thought as she wiped her tear stained cheeks with a small towel.  She rummaged through her purse, looking for her concealer. She didn’t usually wear a lot of makeup, except for when she was with Tamlin. Not wanting anyone to know she had broken down and cried, especially the two she- devils, she strategically reapplied her makeup.  

Not feeling quite ready to leave the restroom, she glanced down at her phone.  Maybe she could call Nesta… no, never mind. When was the last time she had even spoken to her sisters? Easter?  No… bad idea. She scrolled through her contacts until she came across Dilys’s number. Feyre smiled for the first time in hours as she thought about the dynamic girl.  She typed in a message but stopped herself before pressing the send button. As much as she tried denying it, the image violet eyes had been haunting her all afternoon. She bit her bottom lip as her fingers hovered over the keys.  Before she could change her mind, Feyre added his name to the thread and pressed send. 

**_Feyre:_ ** _ Hey! It’s Feyre.  Here’s my number!  _

Feyre sighed heavily.  She had hidden in here long enough.  It was time to find Tamlin and get him to take her home.  Unexpectedly, the phone still clutched in her hand began to vibrate. 

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Fey! It’s about time you texted! :P _

**_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _ Hello Feyre Darling!  _

The corners of her mouth lifted as she read the messages.  She quickly typed in a response. 

**_Feyre:_ ** _ Sorry! It’s been a busy evening.  What are you two up to? _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Not much.  Just hanging out at home.  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Buuttttt…… I finally got Rhyses to read Throne of Glass! He’s been reading it all afternoon!! :D _

**_Feyre:_ ** _ Wait… what???? You mean we have a new fangirl amongst us?  _

**_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _ Oh, please! I figured I should read them just so I could understand what you two nerds were talking about.  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Liar!  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Anyway, what are you up to Fey? _

**_Feyre:_ ** _ I’m currently hiding in a bathroom. Long story.  _

**_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _  I’m going to need a little bit more information, Darling.  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ What the hell?????  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ Are you okay???? Do we need to come get you??  _

Feyre was touched by their concern.  She had known them less than a day, but knew without a doubt that they would come and get her if she asked.  

**_Feyre:_ ** _ No, I’m fine.  Thanks for the offer, though. _

**_Feyre:_ ** _ I’m at a diner party with my boyfriend and these two she- devils said… well, they said some pretty horrible crap about me.   _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ What?? Don’t listen to those bitches! We’ll come over and kick their asses for you!  _

**_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _  They are simply jealous of your artistic talents.  Not to mention your ethereal beauty.  _

Feyre snorted at the compliment.  She was extremely glad she had texted to two.  She was feeling slightly better already.  __

**_Feyre:_ ** _ Thanks! I’m about to call it a night and go home.  _

**_Pickles:_ ** _ You better text us when you get home! Let us know you’re okay!  _

**_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _ Are you sure you don’t need a ride home, Feyre Darling? I can come get you.  It’s no problem! Besides, I’m sure you’re dying to see me again! ;)  _

She rolled her eyes at the message, trying to ignore the heat creeping up her cheeks.  

**_Feyre:_ ** _ Prick.  _

**_Feyre:_ ** _ I’m fine. _ **** _ I’ll text you two later.  _

Feyre stowed her phone in her purse before giving her reflection a once over.  Steeling her nerves, she turned around and walked out of the bathroom. It didn’t take her long to find Tamlin in the crowd.  A look of relief flashed across his face as he spotted her. He quickly closed the distance between them and grasped her hand.

“There you are,” he said with a smile. 

“Tam, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“Well, whatever it is… it can wait.  Come with me.” His eyes sparkled as he led her towards the center of the room.

“No, Tam.  I want to go…” Feyre tugged on her arm, trying to get him to stop.  “Tamlin… stop!” she hissed. Tamlin, however, continued to drag her forward.

“May I have everyone’s attention?” he bellowed. Oh shit! What was he doing? She wanted to leave, not have more people look down on her!  Her face burned with embarrassment.

The conversations in the room came to an end as everyone turned to stare at Tamlin and her.  Ianthe was openly glaring. Feyre looked down at her shoes, wishing she could vanish on the spot.  Tamlin on the other hand, seemed to relish the attention. He gazed around and smiled jovially at those in the room.

“I want to thank you all for coming here this evening and sharing this special day with us.” Feyre’s brow creased in confusion. Special day? What was going on? She lifted her head to look at her boyfriend.

He continued addressing the crowd, “As many of you know, Feyre and I have been dating for some time now.” He turned and grinned at her as he continued, “Recently, I’ve been thinking that it’s time to make some changes in my life.”

Feyre blanched as he pulled a small, black box out of his pocket.  Oh gods! NO! Not here! What was he thinking?

Grinning broadly at her, Tamlin knelt down on one knee.  

SHIT SHIT SHIT

“Feyre Archeron, I love you more than words can say and I can’t picture my life without you. Will you marry me?” He lifted the ring box towards her, an expectant look on his face.  

Oh gods. She couldn't say yes.  She didn’t want to say yes. It didn’t feel right. Not like this. But she couldn’t say no.  She was cornered, trapped. Feyre could feel Abria’s eyes on her, boring a hole right into her back.  How could he do this to her? Didn’t he know her at all? As she stared down a him, his expression began to harden.

She plastered a smile on her face and croaked, “Yes.  Yes, of course I’ll marry you.” Her heart sunk as he picked her up and spun her around.  Applause erupted from all corners of the room. Engaged. She was engaged to Tamlin. This was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her life.  So.. why wasn’t it? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think! I love getting comments and feedback! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	9. Chapter 9

Feyre groaned in frustration as she slammed her book down on the counter.  Even it hadn’t been enough to take her mind off of her recent engagement to Tamlin.  Her gaze drifted down to the massive, garish ring on her finger. She cringed at the sight.  Truth be told, she hated the damn thing. It was not what she would have picked out for herself, if given the chance.  Things were happening so quickly, she hadn’t even really had a chance to fully come to terms with the events of the previous weekend.  Tam had already scheduled an appointment with a wedding planner later on in the week. Feyre squeezed her eyes shut and laid her head down on the countertop.  

Feyre had foolishly thought that nothing in her life would change dramatically so soon after the engagement.  Afterall, weddings took months and months to plan, right? Tamlin it seemed, was determined to have the wedding as soon as possible, completely ignoring her objections. Just last night, they had gotten into a heated argument over her living arrangements.  Tamlin had suggested that she move into his house immediately, going so far as to say they could start bringing her things over that night after dinner. He hadn’t understood why she wanted to wait until after the wedding. How was she supposed to tell him that the thought of moving in with him made her feel as though she handing over her freedom?

Feyre banged her forehead against counter in frustration.  She usually enjoyed the the peace and quite her job offered, the occasional moments of silence when the bookstore was completely void of customers.  Today, though, she hated the silence. It left her with entirely too much time to think about her relationship with Tamlin. Right now, she didn’t feel like unraveling the tangled mess her thoughts and emotions had become.  The tinkling of a bell sounded from the entrance of the shop, alerting her to the arrival of new customers. She heaved herself off the counter and plastered a huge, fake smile on her face. 

“Welcome to Helion’s Book…” Feyre’s voice trailed off and her eyes grew wide.  A huge smile spread its way across her face as Dily pranced over and gave her a hug. 

“So, this is where you spend all of your time,” Dily said, with a lopsided grin as she stepped out of the embrace. 

“What are you doing here? And why aren’t you in school, by the way?” Feyre asked. 

Dily waved her hand dismissively, “I have study hall last period. They won’t miss me.”  Feyre shook her head and clucked her tongue admonishingly at the girl. 

“How very irresponsible of you, Dilys. Whatever would your brother say?”

“Pffffft. Please. Rhys was probably the one who gave her the idea.”

Feyre turned her attention to the woman who had walked in with Dily.  Saying that she was beautiful was an understatement. Feyre wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest to learn that she was a model.  What immediately caught Feyre’s attention though, was the dress that she herself wouldn’t even have had the nerve to try on. It was bright red, low cut, and extremely form fitting. 

“Oh, let me introduce the two of you.  This is my cousin, Mor. Mor, this is Feyre.” 

Feyre smiled brightly and said, “Nice to meet you!” 

She was completely caught off guard when Mor enveloped her in a bone crushing hug.  She returned the hug, albeit somewhat awkwardly. What was it with this family and hugging?

“It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Mor said. 

“Wait… what?  They told you about me? What exactly have they said?” Feyre said, brows narrowed. 

“Only good things. I promise,” she teased. 

Dily rolled her eyes, “Anyways, I was actually visiting Mor, she owns a clothing boutique just up the street, when I remembered you saying something about working at a bookstore.  I figured this had to be it, so we stopped in to say hi.”

Feyre asked, “Which store is yours?” The only clothing store she knew of was the one where she had purchased her dress.  She didn’t remember seeing Mor there though.

“Simply Extravagant,” Mor answered.  Feyre could tell by the look on her face just how much the store meant to her. 

Dily scoffed, “It’s the one with the horrendous hot pink sign out front. You can’t miss it.”

Mor ignored the jab and said, “Don’t listen to her. She wouldn’t be able to recognize fashion if it bit her on the ass.” 

Feyre snortd as the two cousins glared at each other.  She absentmindedly tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear.  

“What the hell is that?” Dily hissed, grabbing Feyre’s hand. She squirmed uncomfortably as they all gazed down at the ring on her finger. 

“That is… well… it’s a long story,” she said quietly. 

Mor, who had been eyeing her thoughtfully, said, “Well, it sounds as though we’re in need of a girls night.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feedback! Thanks for reading! :D 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	10. Chapter 10

Dily’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she asked, “What do you think, Fey?  Are you busy tonight?” Feyre chewed on her bottom lip, unsure of how to respond.  While she was eager to spend time with Dily and get to know Mor better, she was reluctant to agree.  Divulging the details of her whole complicated, messy engagement wasn't exactly something she was looking forward to.  Misinterpreting her hesitation, Dily’s smile faded slightly.

“If you’re busy, don’t worry about it.  We can do something another time, maybe,” Mor offered kindly.

“No!” Feyre blurted out.  She took a deep breath before clarifying, “I mean… no, we don’t have to do it another night.  Tonight would be great.” Mor grinned broadly as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone.  

“Give me your phone number and then I’ll text you my address.  You can meet us there after your shift ends,” Mor demanded.

After inputting Feyre’s number, they said their goodbyes.  Feyre watched as the two cousins flounced out of the store, hand in hand.  She couldn't help the twinge of jealousy she felt in the pit of her stomach.  She wondered, not for the first time in her life, what it would be like to belong to a family such as theirs.  

*******

Feyre closed the GPS app on her phone as she parked her yellow beetle on the side of the road.  Luckily, Mor’s house hadn’t been that difficult to find. Though Rhys lived in an apartment near the Prythian University campus, Dily and their parents lived in an estate that rivaled the lavishness of Tamlin’s family home.  Knowing little about Mor, Feyre hadn’t been sure what to expect. She hadn’t really wanted to spend the evening in another stuffy, overpriced house. However, Mor’s house… there was no other way to say it. Mor’s house was adorable!  It was more of a little cottage, really. Feyre marveled at the tiny little flower gardens as she approached. Elain would have loved this place, she mused. It looked as though it had come straight from the cover of one of those housing magazines.  The front door flew open suddenly, taking her by surprise.

“It’s about time, Fey! I was starting to think you got lost,” Dilys said with a lopsided grin.

Feyre drawled, “You know… it’s not to late for me to leave, Pickles.”

Dily rolled her eyes and giggled, “Oh, just get your ass inside.”  Feyre flashed her a smile and walked into the house. She barely caught a glimpse of blonde hair before being enveloped in a giant hug.   

“Feyre, I’m so glad you came,” Mor said, smiling brightly as she stepped out of the embrace.

Motioning for Feyre to follow, Dily led the way into the living room.  Mor obviously had an affinity for the extravagant, but the room was both warm and inviting.  Feyre gazed around the room, taking in all the tiny details. As her eyes landed on a photograph hanging on the the wall, she stepped closer for a better look.  Though the picture must have been taken several years ago, she immediately recognized Rhys, Mor, and Dily. They were posing in front of a huge Christmas tree, along with two other boys she didn’t recognize who appeared to be around Rhys’s age.  Mor was sticking her tongue out, Dily was smacking Rhys in the back of the head, and the other two were giving the camera a vulgar gesture. Feyre snorted at the look on Rhys’s face. Cauldron, he was adorable even when he was frustrated.

“We bought all kinds of junk food if you’re hungry,” Dily said, interrupting her errant thoughts.

“I have a bunch of movies we could watch.  Or if you’d rather, we could just play a boardgame,” Mor offered.  Dily was sprawled out on a chair, legs thrown over an armrest. Mor, who sitting cross legged on the couch, patted the empty cushion next to her.  

Feyre nestled herself into the cozy couch and said, “Either. I don’t mind, really.  You pick, Mor.”

“Ummm… no.  First you need to tell us what the fuck is going on with you and that ring.” Dily demanded.  Feyre’s jaw slackened as she gaped at the girl.

“Dilys Gwendolen!” Mor chidded.  She gave her cousin a stern look before continuing, “You can’t just ambush her like that.  I swear to the Cauldron, even Cassian has more tact than that.”

Feyre stammered, “No, it’s fine.” She took a deep breath and began talking.  Once she started, it seemed as though she couldn’t stop. At some point, Mor had taken ahold of her hand. Feyre was grateful for the silent support she offered.  Both Mor and Dily swore viciously as Feyre described her encounter with the two she- devils.

“What the fuck is wrong with his mother?” Dily asked.  Feyre cringed at the thought of Tamlin’s parents. She would be extremely happy if she didn’t have to see Maeron or Abria again for a long, long time.

“And Ianthe?  What a bitch!” Mor hissed.

“Wait… that’s when you first texted Rhys and me, isn’t it?”

Feyre nodded her head and said, “Yes, it was.  I was hiding out in the bathroom. I hadn’t wanted anyone to know how much I was affected by what they said.” She sighed heavily and continued, “The second I left the restroom, Tamlin pulled me into the center of the room.  He proposed to me right there on the spot. In front of everyone, even the she- devils.

“And you accepted,” Mor said, encouraging her to continue.  

“I couldn’t say no. Not in front of all those people!” Feyre wailed, running a hand through her hair.

“Fuck that, Fey.  Do you want to marry him?” Dily asked, brows furrowed.

“I… uhhh… no.  No, I don’t,” she admitted, suddenly feeling much lighter after her confession.

“Good.  Then you can still marry Rhys,” she smirked.  Mor began howling in laughter. Feyre, who had turned a bright shade of red, threw a pillow at Dily’s head.

“I can’t believe you.  I’m over here sharing my pain and you’re just sitting over there trying to play matchmaker!”

“Well, you and Rhys would make a really cute couple!” Mor said with a twinkle in her eyes.

Feyre groaned, covering her face with her hands, “Not you too!”  

Mor slid an arm around her shoulders, “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you.” Nodding in Dily’s direction, she continued, “This twerp just wants you to be a part of the family.  You don’t need to marry Rhys to do that, though.”

Feyre’s eyes lined with silver.  Unable to speak, she leaned over and gave Mor a hug.

“Thanks Mor”

“Anytime, Feyre.”

“Alright, enough of the serious shit. Let’s watch a movie,” Dily said with a smile.  

*******

“That was amazing!” Feyre squealed as the movie credits began to play.

Dily clucked her tongue, “I still can’t believe you’ve never read Harry Potter.  And you call yourself a bookworm. Pitiful.”

Mor groaned, “I can’t believe we have another booknerd in the family! Is having another fashionista too much to ask for?” Simultaneously, two pillows flew across the room and hit her in the face.  Mor squawked indignantly as Feyre and Dily doubled over with laughter. Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that must be the pizza,” Dily practically sang with glee, scampering off to answer the door.

“The money is on the table right next to the door,” Mor hollered.  As Feyre heard the front door swing open, she began straightening up the mess they had made during their movie marathon.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She could here Dily sneer from the other room. That was definitely not how one usually greeted the pizza delivery guy.  Strange. Must be someone else then.

Feyre’s breath hitched as an extremely familiar voice answered, “Nice to see you too, sis!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part!! Please leave comments and feedback! :D
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	11. Chapter 11

Feyre stood rooted on the spot, listening intently to their conversation.  Cauldron, what was he doing here? She couldn’t face him. Not yet. She wasn’t ready to see the look on his face when she told him about the engagement.   

“Don’t you “sis” me, Rhysand.  I told you not to come here tonight,” Dily hissed.  Upon hearing that, Feyre felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards the girl.  

“You do realize that I’m older than you, right?  And that I don’t actually have to listen to you.” he asked incredulously.

“Well, you should have.  You would have saved yourself a trip.  Now leave,” Dily demanded.

“Dilys Gwendolen Nos, you have…”

“AHHH! Why does everyone have to call me by my full name when they are pissed off? It’s so annoying,” she huffed.

“Well, what am I supposed to call you, Dill Pickle?”

“Prick.”

“Brat.”

Dily snorted, “I love you, Rhyses!”

“Love you too, Pickles.  So… are you going to let me in or what?”

Sighing heavily, she said, “I can’t believe you’re crashing our girls’ night.  Well, actually… yes, I can.”

“Oh, just let him in.  It’s not like he’s going to leave anytime soon!” Mor screeched, causing Feyre to jump.  She had been so focused on listening to Dilys and Rhys, she had completely forgotten about Mor.   

“Ugh, fine.  Come on in if you must,” Dily hissed.    

Shit!  He was coming in! Feyre fumbled with the tie that was around her wrist and hastily pulled her hair up in a ponytail.  She mentally slapped herself. Get it together, Feyre. It’s just Rhys. No big deal. She looked down at her shirt as she smoothed the wrinkles out of it, suddenly wishing she had changed clothes after work.    

“Fey? You okay?” she whirled around to face Mor.

“Oh. Yeah. I’m good.” she squeaked, rather unconvincingly.  Mor gave her a searching look. Feyre resisted the urge to fidget under her scrutiny.

“Good evening ladies!” Rhys purred as he strolled into the room.

Mor stalked up to him as she narrowed her eyes.

“What?” he said with a saccharine smile.  Faster than an asp, Mor struck. Before Rhys had time to react, she had smacked him soundly upside the head.  

“WHAT THE HELL, MORRIGAN?” he roared.

She placed her hands on her hips and stated, “That’s for showing up uninvited to our girls’ night.  And since when do you ring the bell, anyways? You usually just walk in like you own the place.”

Rhys clucked his tongue, “Well, I didn’t want to walk in on some strange female ritual, or anything like that.”  This time, he was able to dodge to blow Mor attempted to land.

“Rhys… you are the world’s biggest nerd!” Dily groaned.  He looked at her as his brows rose.

“After that whole “female ritual” comment, I’d have to agree with that,” Feyre snorted.  Rhys turned slowly to face her, the corners of his mouth curving skyward.

“Hello, Feyre Darling,” he purred.  Feyre fought the urge to tuck her hand behind her back.  She didn’t want to dwell on reasons why she was so hesitant for Rhys to see the damned ring.  She was engaged for Cauldron’s sake. Besides, though she didn’t want to get married right away, she loved Tamlin.  Even if it seemed as though they had done nothing but argue lately. Even if.. no. She had made a commitment to Tamlin.  And she fully intended to honor it.

Rhys smirked at her with a predatory glint in his eyes.  

Realizing she had been staring at him for far too long, she stammered, “Hey Rhys. How’ve you been?”

“Not bad.  Though, I’m much better now that I’m here with you!” A deep flush crept up Feyre’s neck and cheeks.  

She rolled her eyes and huffed, “You’re insufferable.”

Mor snorted, “Subtle, Rhys. Real subtle.”  He slid his hands into his pockets and shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

He drawled, “So, what’s on the agenda for the rest of the evening?”

“We just finished Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.  We were about to start the next one, before you so rudely showed up that is,” Dily said, tone still slightly venomous.  

Rhys’s face brightened as he said, “They’re definitely not as good as the books… but I still love them.  Which one is your favorite, Feyre Darling?”

“Ummm… well… actually…”

“She’s a Potter virgin, Rhys,” Dily giggled.  

Rhys’s jaw nearly hit the ground as he stuttered, “You’ve never read Harry Potter? Are you kidding me?  Oh, Feyre Darling, we must fix that immediately. You have no idea what you’ve been missing out on.” Before she could utter another word, the doorbell rang.

“There’s the pizza. Finally,” Dily said as she rolled her eyes.  

“I’ll get it,” Feyre blurted out.  She hurried from the room, needing a moment to herself.  She needed a break from that piercing gaze of his that seemed to strip her bare.  Pushing aside those thoughts, she paid the young delivery man and collected the pizza.  Before reentering the room, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

“Sustenance has arrived,” she announced, walking as casually as she could back into the room.  

Rhys stepped towards her and said, “Here. I’ll take it.”  He reached to take the box from her, inadvertently placing his hand on top of hers.  Feyre felt him go utterly still. SHIT! His eyes widened, moving ever so slowly until they met hers.  

“I believe congratulations are in order,” he said with deliberate slowness.  His face was unreadable, but Feyre could have sworn she saw a flash of disappointment cross his face.  She wrenched her gaze from his and shuffled back a few steps.

“Ummm, thanks,” she said quietly, nervously fiddling the ring on her finger.  She gave him a small smile before retreating back to the couch. Dily had returned to her perch on the recliner and was beginning to devour the pizza.  Her own appetite had diminished considerably in the last few minutes. Mor settled in on the far side of the couch. Feyre’s heart pounded in her chest as Rhys took the only remaining seat… right next to her.  As the movie played, Feyre found it harder and harder to concentrate. The only thing she seemed able to focus on was the smell of citrus and the sensation of Rhys’s leg brushing up against hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please leave me comments and feedback! 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
>    
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	12. Chapter 12

Feyre dragged her feet as she trudged up the walkway.  Chewing on her bottom lip nervously, she unlocked the door and let herself inside Tamlin’s grandiose manor.  The key itself was a new acquisition. Tamlin had given it to her just last night, insisting that she have it seeing as how she would be moving in with him soon enough as it was.  Feyre had difficulty seeing herself living in this lavish house, which was a far cry from the modest place she shared with her father. She glanced around, trying to envision calling this place her home.  Maybe Tam would allow her to paint a few murals on the walls. Maybe that would make the place see more inviting. 

Feyre checked her reflection in a mirror hanging in the entryway, taming a few errant strands of hair.  She had found herself being distracted all day at work, anxious about speaking to the wedding planner tonight.  Feyre didn’t know anything about the individual they were meeting with, only that she was an old friend of Tamlin’s.  Soon after the disastrous dinner party at his parent’s house, Tamlin had contacted the woman and made the arrangements for tonight.  To be honest, Feyre had been a little aggravated by how Tamlin continued to make all of the decisions for them, decisions that she had every right to be a part of.  

“Tam? I’m here!” she hollered as she glanced around the spacious interior, searching for any sign of him.  

“Feyre, there you are. I was beginning to worry,” Tamlin said as he came strolling around the corner, from his office Feyre presumed.  Besides the bedroom, the office was where he spent the majority of his time. S he took in the sight of the expensive suit he wore and was immediately relieved that she had chosen to wear another of the frilly, bedecked dresses that Tamlin had purchased for her.  She flushed slightly as his gaze raked over her, taking in each and every dip and curve of her body that had been accentuated by the dress. 

“What time is the wedding planner going to be here?” she asked.  Tamlin prowled forward, closing the distance between them. He snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her body flush with his.  

“She won’t be here for awhile.  We have plenty of time,” he said suggestively.  He surged forward, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was demanding, merciless in its intensity.  The sound of someone knocking on the door had Tamlin pulling away from her, snarling in frustration. He pressed a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands roaming her backside.     

“She’s early.  We’ll have to continue this later,” Tamlin said, stepping out of the embrace.  He flashed her a fiendish grin and began walking to the door. Feyre raised a hand to her lips, now slightly bruised and swollen.  She closed her eyes and prayed to the Cauldron for the strength to make it through the evening. 

“Ianthe, it’s good to see you.” Feyre’s eyes flew open in horror.  This had to be a mistake! Surely the fates wouldn’t be this cruel! She stared, wide-eyed, as she-devil number 2 walked through the front door.  

Ianthe swatted his arm playfully and simpered, “Oh, Tamtam.  You act as though it’s been years since we’ve seen each other, not days.”  Feyre narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the woman, who was acting entirely too familiar with Tamlin for her liking.  Feyre had last seen Ianthe at  Maeron or Abria’s house almost two weeks ago, not days.  Had Tamlin, for some reason, seen Ianthe since then?  And if that were the case, why hadn’t he mentioned it?  Feyre wondered, not for the first time, what exactly had been the nature of their relationship.

Tamlin motioned towards her lazily, “This is Feyre.  Feyre, this is Ianthe.”

Ianthe gave her a shallow smile and said, “Ah, yes.  So good to see you again, dear. I was ever so disappointed we didn’t have more time to talk at the dinner party.”  

Feyre’s nostrils flared slightly as she said, “Yeah, a real shame.”  Tamlin ushered them over to the dining room table.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Ianthe?” he asked 

She beamed at him, “Yes, please.” 

Barling glancing in her direction, Tamlin said, “Feyre, would you get the wine for us please?”  Her shoulders tightened imperceptibly at the dismissal. 

“Of course, Tam.  I’ll be right back.”  Her temper flared as Ianthe threw her a smug smile right before she turned and stalked to the kitchen.  Of all the people in Prythian, why did Ianthe have to be the Cauldron damned wedding planner. Half tempted to spit in the glass, Feyre poured the she- devil’s wine.  On a whim, Feyre poured herself a generous amount as well. By the time she returned, Tam and Ianthe were sitting shoulder to shoulder at the table, huddled over a book.

Feyre set the glass down before Ianthe, perhaps harder than was necessary, and then took a seat beside Tamlin.  

“We are discussing possible venues for the wedding,” he explained, as Feyre peered at the book on the table. 

“I’ll check the availability at the Biltmore Estate.  As we agreed, Tamlin, it is our best option considering the rather large number of people on the guest list,” Ianthe said beatifically.

“Well, actually, I was wanting a somewhat smaller wedding,” Feyre cut in, eyeing Tamlin warily.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous Feyre.  A person of status, such as Tamlin, requires a more extensive ceremony.  Surely you understand that?” Ianthe said patronizingly. Feyer gazed at Tamlin beseechingly.

“We should listen to Ianthe on this, Feyre.  She’s the expert on this sort of thing,” he said thoughtfully.  Feyre pursed her lips as Ianthe beamed at Tamlin triumphantly. 

“You were still wanting a spring wedding, right Tamtam?”  Feyre’s eyebrows shot up. Wait… that only gave, at most, six months.

“Isn’t that a bit soon?  Aren't we going to need a bit more time to plan?” she asked.  Too soon. That was much too soon! She needed more time! Tamlin took hold of her hand and lightly brushed a kiss on her cheek.

“The sooner I can call you my wife, the better.”  Feyre squeezed her eyes shut. Everything was happening much too quickly.  Feyre’s attention began to wander. It wasn’t as if they needed her here to begin with, seeing that they were not respecting her wishes at all.  She could do this. For Tamlin, she could do this. 

“Once we lock down the venue, we can begin finalizing all of the other details.  For now, the only other thing we need to discuss is what type of flowers to use. Orchids would be nice.  Then again, red roses would look exquisite considering the location,” Ianthe said. Feyre brought her attention back to the conversation at hand.  

“Not red roses.  No red flowers at all,” she insisted.  Tamlin squeezed her hand, whether it was a sign of support or a warning, she didn’t know.  Red flowers reminded her too much of her mother’s funeral. Her mother’s favorite flower had been gerbera daisies.  Her father had filled the church with hundreds of them, all red. 

“Of course, Feyre dear.  Orchids would be lovely as well,” Ianthe said with narrowed brows.

“Let us know about the Estate as soon as you can,” Tamlin said, standing up.  Ianthe nodded and began gathering her materials. 

“I’ll be in touch.  It was so good to see you, Tam,” Ianthe said, running a hand down his arm.

“I’ll walk you out,” he offered.  As the two of them walked out of the room, Feyre couldn’t help but sighing in relief.  Cauldron save her, since it seemed as though Tamlin sure as hell wasn’t going to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part!! :D Please leave me comments and feedback! I love reading your thoughts! 
> 
> FairyPrincessKjar
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	13. Chapter 13

After the excruciatingly painful meeting with Ianthe, Feyre had wanted nothing more than to return to the solitude of her own house.  Tamlin, however, seemed to have other plans. He prowled over to her as soon as the she- devil had walked out the door, hell-bent on finishing what he had started prior to Ianthe arriving.  Feyre was now laying in the bed beside him, listening to him snore softly. She had been tossing and turning for the better part of an hour, unable to sleep. No matter how many times she had stayed over, she could not seem to get used to the rigid, uncomfortable mattress.  She slowly climbed out of the bed, careful not to wake up Tamlin. Fumbling around the room in the dark, she searched for some clothing to wear. After finally finding an old shirt of Tam’s, she snuck out of the room. She retrieved her phone from her purse and flopped down on her couch.  She quickly located the numbers she was hunting for and began typing.

 **_Feyre:_ ** _YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS SHIT!_

 **_Mor:_ ** _What?_

 **_Pickles:_ ** _Tell us!!!_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _So… you know that wedding planner I told you about? The one Tamlin hired?_

 **_Pickles:_ ** _Yeah???_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _She came over to Tam’s house to meet with us tonight._

 **_Mor:_ ** _And what happened?_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _It was the she- devil Ianthe!!_

 **_Pickles:_ ** _What the fuck? The wedding planner is Ianthe?_

 **_Mor:_ ** _You have got to be kidding me!_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _I’m dead serious!_

Hours later, she could still feel her rage bubbling just below surface.  Just thinking about Ianthe’s arrogant tone had Feyre’s lips drawing back in a snarl.  

 **_Pickles:_ ** _What did she say?_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _She is just so condescending!  Not only that, but she tried to make me look as stupid as possible.  It was horrible!_

 **_Mor:_ ** _What a hell?!?_

 **_Pickles:_ ** _You fired her ass, right?_

Feyre’s brows furrowed.  She would have liked nothing more than to throw Ianthe out on her bony ass, but Tamlin was adamantly refusing to listen to reason.

 **_Feyre:_ ** _She’s an old friend of his.  They basically teamed up against me and ignored everything I had to say_

 **_Mor:_ ** _What are you going to do about her?_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _She and Tamlin have already chosen the venue, the flowers, and even how many guests there will be. I don’t know how to get him to understand how I feel…_

 **_Pickles:_ ** _Are you going to go through with the wedding?_

Feyre stared at the message and sighed dejectedly. Should she marry Tamlin?  She loved him, or at least she had at one point. Lately though, Feyre wasn't so sure.  It was getting harder and harder to ignore certain things, like how he hadn’t backed her up with Ianthe.       

 **_Feyre:_ ** _Honestly, I don’t know._

 **_Pickles:_ ** _Fey, you know I would be thrilled if you ended up with Rhys, but even if that never happens, don’t marry Tamlin just because you think you should._

 **_Mor:_ ** _You don’t need to make a decision right now.  It’s ok that you’re not sure._

 **_Mor:_ ** _Don’t let anyone convince you one way or another. Even Dilys.  Just do what feels right for you._

 **_Feyre:_ ** _Thanks! I don’t know what I would do without you two!_

Dily had made it very obvious that she wanted Feyre with Rhys, not Tamlin. Mor… Mor hadn’t said anything, though Feyre was pretty sure she knew how her friend felt.  She had an inkling that Mor wanted her to marry Tamlin about as much as Dily did. Feyre was grateful that Mor was not pressuring her though. When had making her own decisions start to feel like a privilege?      

 **_Pickles:_ ** _We love you, Fey!_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _Love you too, Pickles!_

_******* _

It was nearing the end of of her shift at the bookstore and she was becoming restless.  She drummed her fingers on the counter absentmindedly. Feyre was scrolling through Tumblr, searching for any new Throne of Glass fanfics, when she received a new text.   

 **_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** You at work?

 **_Feyre:_ ** _Yup. For about 10 more minutes!_

 **_Rhyses Pieces:_ ** _Perfect_

 **_Feyre:_ ** _What’s up?_

She looked up as she heard the bell on the door chime.  She couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across her face, or the flutter in her stomach, as he approached.  

“What are you doing here?” she asked.  Rhys’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he handed her a small gift bag.  

 “I have something for you, Feyre Darling,” he said somewhat shyly.  Feyre bit her lip, a deep blush crawling up her neck.

“What? Why?  You didn’t need to get me anything,” she stammered.

“I know that.  I wanted to. Just go ahead and open it.”  

Feyre ripped open the package with fervor.  She squealed with delight as she pulled out a hardback copy of the first Harry Potter book.  

“Thank you, Rhyses Pieces! This is amazing!”

Rhys smirked, “You’re welcome, Darling.  I just couldn’t, in good conscience, let you go any longer without reading the series.”   

“Thank you!” Feyre said.  She hesitated slightly before throwing her arms around his neck.  Rhys seemed shocked at first, but soon wrapped his arms around her in a big embrace.  

“Well, well, well. Isn’t this cozy?”

Feyre whirled around, her face blanching.  Standing before her was a very smug looking Ianthe.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please leave comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	14. Chapter 14

“Ianthe! What are you doing here?” Feyre choked out, hastily stepping a safe distance away from Rhys.  

“I was in the area and wanted to pop in to see when you might be available to go get fitted for your wedding dress.” Ianthe gave Rhys an appreciative once- over before continuing, “But I see that you are… otherwise occupied at the moment.”  

Feyre went rigid, her hands tightening into fists.  How dare she insinuate that there was something improper going on between her and Rhys!

“Oh, you should have just called, Ianthe!  I’m sure Tamlin could have given you my number, seeing as how… close the two of you are,” Feyre sneered, crossing her hands over her chest.  Ianthe gave her a saccharine smile before focusing her attention on Rhys. She sauntered over to him, hips swishing as she walked.

Placing a hand on his chest, she purred, “And who might you be?”  

“Uhhh…” Rhys stuttered, looking at Feyre beseechingly.  

“This is my friend Rhysand.  Rhysand, meet Ianthe. The wedding planner,” Feyre drawled.  The hold she had on her temper was tenuous at best. The way Ianthe was looking at Rhys, as though he were an especially succulent dessert, infuriated her.  Feyre scrambled forward and took hold of Ianthe’s arm, pulling her away from him.

“Let’s go take a look at our schedules and see what we can set up.  Where is this dress shop at, by the way?” she asked, pretending as though she actually cared about the damned thing.  

After flashing Rhys one last suggestive smile, Ianthe turned her back to him and began following Feyre.  Rhys’s shoulders sagged in relief, giving Feyre a grateful look.  She nodded at him quickly before twisting her head in Ianthe’s direction.  

After agreeing to meet her at the dress shop later on in the week, Feyre quickly ushered Ianthe out of the store, twisting the lock behind her.  Feyre slumped against the wooden door, rubbing her temples as she let out a harsh breath.

“Well, she was… interesting,” Rhys said, each word dripping with disdain.

Feyre snorted, “Interesting is not the word I would use to describe her.  I was thinking more along the lines of bitch, but that’s just me.”

Rhys’s face was filled with pride as he said, “Even so, you handled her magnificently, Feyre Darling.”

She ran a hand through her hair said quietly, “I’m sorry, Rhys.”

Rhys slid his hands in his pockets and huffed, “What the hell do you have to apologize for?”  Feyre tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she lowered her head.

“I’m just sorry you had to see that.”  

She heard him walk forward and close the distance between them.  Gently, he took hold of her chin and tilted her face up. They stood like that momentarily, until her eyes reluctantly lifted to meet his.

“Don’t ever apologize for standing up for yourself, or those you care about,” he said emphatically.

As Feyre stood, mesmerized by his eyes, a spark of heat ignited in her core.  Rhys glanced down at her lips, his pupils dilating. Her breath hitched as his thumb tenderly stroked her cheek.  Before something happened that she may come to regret, Feyre yanked her chin out of his grasp and stepped away.

“Thank you for the book. I should really start closing up the shop now,” she said, giving him a half smile.  Disappointment flashed across his face for an instant before it became void of all emotion.

“You’re welcome, Darling.  I guess I’ll leave you to it.”

“Good night, Rhys,” Feyre said, viciously resisting the urge to ask him to stay.  She knew she shouldn’t be having these feeling for him, that she shouldn’t want him to stay.  But she did.

He smirked, “Good night, Feyre Darling.”  Feyre silently watched him stroll out the door, wrapping her arms protectively around herself.  

*******

Feyre shuffled nervously through the door of Tamlin’s house, where she was supposed to be meeting him for dinner. Had Ianthe already spoken to him? Or would she have a chance to explain what happened?  She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed in exasperation. How would she be able to explain Rhys to Tamlin, when she couldn’t even explain him to herself? She recalled the surge of white hot anger that had coursed through her as Ianthe looked at him with interest.  She mentally slapped herself. Who Rhys was with, or wasn’t with, wasn’t any concern of hers. But her stomach twisted malevolently at the thought of him being with another woman. Cauldron, what the hell was wrong with her? She was engaged to another man!

“Tam? Are you home?” she called out.

He swaggered down the hall towards her, a malignant smile on his face.  

Shit. Shit Shit.

“Hello Feyre.” He looked at her with a hard glint in his eye and said, “So, I hear you had an interesting afternoon.”  She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, not wanting her fear to betray her.

“Ianthe came by.  We scheduled a dress fitting for my gown in a couple of days.”

As he prowled closer, he said, “Yes, Ianthe mentioned she had stopped by to see you.”

“Who was he?” Tamlin asked, dangerously quiet. Feyre’s heart began racing as she took a small step back.  

“No one.  It was just a friend, Tam,” she stammered.

“Just a friend, huh? And are you sleeping with this friend, Feyre?” he snarled, stepping even closer so that they were almost nose to nose.

Feyre’s face blanched as she blurted out, “NO! Why would you even think that? He’s in that book club I told you about. He’s just a friend, I swear!”

Tamlin roughly grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her against him.  Feyre flinched slightly at the treatment. Before she could say anything else, his lips came crashing down upon hers.  He pushed her harshly against the wall, his mouth leaving a trail of nipping bites along her neck.

“You are mine,” he growled, bucking his hips into hers.  

“Tamlin, I…” Feyre began, but was silenced by another bruising kiss.  

“You’re finished with that damn book club.  I don’t want you near him ever again,” he growled.  Feyre bit her lip, not sure what to say. He repeated, “You are mine.”

Feyre’s mind went completely blank as Tamlin began unbuttoning her shirt.  She closed her eyes as he palmed her breasts roughly. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to escape the haunting image of violet eyes.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this one!! Please let me know what you think! Leave me comments and feedback!! :D
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	15. Chapter 15

Feyre grimaced as she eyed the puffy, frilly dresses in the store window.  Truth be told, she had never imagined herself getting married. If she had though, she would have pictured herself in a simple form fitting dress, not the ruffled monstrosities that this store apparently favored.  Feyre had tried, and failed, to come up with a plausible excuse for canceling the appointment with Ianthe. Just thinking about her had Feyre seeing red. How dare she call Tamlin like that! Telling him Cauldron knew what about seeing her with Rhys.  All just to stir up trouble between Tam and her. Bitch! Shaking her head in disgust, she pushed the door open and walked in. 

Her thoughts returned to a certain violet eyed man with an insufferable smirk.  As much as she tried, she simply couldn’t get him off of her mind. He had texted her multiple times since that night, but she hadn’t responded.  What was she supposed to say? I’d love to see you, but Tamlin has forbidden me from talking to you? I sounded ridiculous even to her. 

“Feyre, you made it. Finally,” Ianthe taunted, jolting her out of her thoughts.  Feyre crossed her arms over her chest and eyed her warily. Ianthe was clad in a pale blue dress that accentuated her ample curves.  Her golden tresses cascaded down her back in loose curls. She really could have been beautiful, had it not been for the scowl permanently etched upon her face.       

“Hello, Ianthe,” Feyre ground out, eyes narrowing slightly.    

The she- devil gave her a once- over and sneered, “You’re looking… well today.”

Feyre rolled her eyes at the insincere compliment and snorted, “Always such a pleasure to see you, Ianthe.”  Cauldron, she hated this woman!

“Well? Are you ready to try on your dress?” she huffed.

Feyre’s eyes went wide as she stammered, “What… what do you mean? I thought we were just, you know, looking around today.”

Ianthe waved her hand dismissively, “Nonsense.  Tam mentioned that you may need help picking out a dress that was appropriate.  I took the liberty of ordering the most fabulous dress for you. You’re going to love it!”

Feyre gave mirthless laugh, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Ianthe’s features hardened as she hissed, “This is one of the most prestigious dress boutiques in all of Prythian!  You really are quite lucky that this place was willing to work with us on such short notice. Thank the Cauldron they had an opening.  Otherwise it could have been weeks before we got in.”

Feyre quirked a brow and asked in an incredulous tone, “And what if I don’t like the dress you have deemed worthy of me?”

Ianthe gave her a sugary-sweet smile and simpered, “Oh, it’s a one of a kind.  Simply exquisite. Not to mention completely nonrefundable.”

Feyre gaped at her, horrified at the idea that her wedding dress had been hand-picked by the she- devil herself.  A raven haired woman, who appeared to be in her early twenties, came prancing towards them. 

She smiled brightly and said, “You must be Feyre, I’m Cerridwen.  If you would please come with me, I’d be happy to help with your dress.”  Not seeing another option, she followed the tiny, wisp like woman into a dressing room.  Terrified of what she would see, Feyre kept her eyes trained on the white wall in front of her from moment she stepped inside the tiny room.  She chewed on a cuticle nervously as Cerridwen worked to button the back of the dress. 

“Oh, it fits perfectly!  It’s beautiful,” Cerridwen squealed.  Feyre, who was already having trouble breathing in the restricting dress, snorted vehemently.   

Looking slightly crestfallen, Cerridwen stammered, “Is there something wrong with the dress?”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose and said quietly, “No. I’m sorry.  It’s just… this is a lot to take in.” 

Cerridwen smiled kindly and said, “It’s alright.  Planning a wedding can certainly be overwhelming. Let’s go show the dress to your friend.”  Feyre bit the inside of her check viciously, not wanting to take her anger out on the kind woman.  Ianthe? Her friend? Nothing could be further from the truth. 

She allowed Cerridwen to lead her to a pedestal near a massive wall of mirrors.  Feyre stepped up, careful not to step on the hem of the dress. She took a deep breath and slowly pivoted around to face the mirror.  She covered her mouth with her hand as she gaped in horror. She looked completely ridiculous! The dress was massive, puffy, and covered in tiny decorations.  It was… Cauldron boil and fry her, this was a disaster. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she considered her reflection. This was exactly the type of dress Tam’s pretentious parents would expect her to wear.   

“So? What do you think?” Ianthe said as she picked a piece of lint from her sleeve.

“It’s certainly something!” she said diplomatically.  

“I told you that you’d love it.”

“Cerridwen? Would you mind bringing me my purse? I’d like to take a picture and send it to my sisters, if that’s alright,” Feyre blurted out as an idea suddenly struck her.  

“Of course.  I’d be happy to take it for you,” Cerridwen offered.  The two made short work of snapping a few photos. After thanking her profusely, Feyre reclaimed her phone and began to text furiously.  

Feyre: I need your honest fashion opinion

Mor: I thought you’d never ask ;)

Feyre rolled her eyes as the corners of her mouth turned up.  She attached one of the photographs Cerridwen had just taken and pressed send.  

It took nearly a whole minute for her to respond.  

Mor: You look very bride- like.

Seriously? It had taken her that long to write a rubbish sentence like that?

Feyre: Morrigan! I’m asking for your honesty here.  

Mor: You really want the truth????

Feyre: YES!

Mor: You look like a fucking marshmallow Peep, Fey! Take that hideous thing off!

She began cackling without restraint.  Ianthe narrowed her brows, causing Feyre to laugh even further.   

Feyre: Love you Mor!

Mor: Love you to, Fey! 

After the stress of seeing Ianthe this afternoon, Feyre wanted nothing more than to soak in luxuriously hot bubble bath.  She she pulled up to her house, she swore vehemently. The Cauldron, as it would seem, had other ideas. There was another vehicle parked in her typical spot.  No, it wasn’t Tam’s black BMW parked in the driveway. Feyre trembled slightly as she gazed at the moving van. Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please leave comments and constructive criticism!!! I love reading what you think!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	16. Chapter 16

Feyre sat in her car staring wide- eyed at the moving van currently parked in the driveway .  Tamlin hadn’t brought the damn thing over to her house thinking that she’d move in with him tonight, had he?  She cursed under her breath, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to form. This was all too much! Too much, too fast!  She climbed out of the car and shuffled up the walk. She hesitated at the door long enough to say a silent prayer to the Cauldron. Feyre eased open the door and glanced around the living room.  Not seeing anyone, she began to make her way down the hallway. No one seemed to be home, not even her father. 

“Hello?” she called out.  Her shoulders began to relax and her brows unfurrowed.  Maybe she had this all wrong! Maybe… 

“Feyre!  I’m back here. In your bedroom!” Tamlin’s voice sounded from down the hall.   She twisted the engagement ring around her finger nervously as she approached.  As she reached the threshold, she gasped, covering her lips with a hand. Though the moving van should have been enough of a warning, she hadn’t been prepared for the sight that lay before her.  Nearly everything in her room was gone. Her book shelves were empty. The closet door hung open, revealing an empty space void of any clothing. Cardboard boxes were stacked up along the far wall, presumably filled with all of her missing possessions.  Tamlin stood amongst the jumbled mess of boxes, looking utterly and entirely pleased with himself. 

“Surprise!” he beamed, extending his hands out to motion around the room.  

“Tamlin, what’s going on?” Feyre asked, keeping her tone as even as possible.  She slid her sweaty hands into her pockets as she waited for his response. 

“I knew how busy you’ve been lately.  Between working at the bookstore and all the wedding planning, you haven't even had time to pack.  So, I thought I’d help out,” he said with an impish grin, rubbing his hands together. Feyre wrapped her arms around herself as she stared at him, mouth slightly agape.  He was dressed casually in a white shirt and blue jeans, which hung low on his hips. His sweaty, damp hair was pulled back into a ponytail. There had been a time when seeing Tamlin like this had would sent her pouncing on him in a lust filled frenzy.  

She took a deep breath and, before she could change her mind, said quickly, “Tamlin, I understand that you were trying to help, but you had no right to come in here and go through all of my things like that.” 

He roughly crossed his arms across his chest and snapped, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”

“This is not about whether or not I want to move in with you, Tam. It’s about you respecting me. Respecting my need to make my own decisions,” she said,  fidgeting slightly under his heavy gaze. 

He narrowed his eyes and snarled, “Don’t you love me anymore?”  Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. 

“Tam, of course I love you.  It’s just… why are you in such a rush? It’s not like we are getting married tomorrow.”  He stalked over to her, reaching his arms around to slid his hands into her back pockets.

Pulling her closer, he simpered, “Can you blame me for wanting to keep you all to myself?” Tamlin leaned forward and nipped her earlobe.  Feyre stepped out of his embrace and eyed him warily.

“Is this about what Ianthe told you about? You know it’s not like that Tam.  He is… was just a friend.” 

His hands squeezed into fists as he hissed , “Ianthe has nothing to do with this.” Tamlin prowled a step closer before continuing, “Is it such a bad thing for me to want my fiancé to live with me?” 

Feyre shrank back, heart beating wildly in her chest.  He was extremely close to losing his temper, if the look in his eyes was any indication.

She held out her hands hands placatingly and begged, “Tam, of course I want to move in, but please understand.  I just want us to be partners- equals who make all of the decisions together.” 

He cocked his head, considering her and said, “That sounds fair.  From now on, I promise not to make any decisions without you.” 

Feyre relaxed slightly and gave him a half smile, “Thank you!  That’s all I ask.” 

His face broke out into a huge grin, “So, how about it?  Ready to grab the boxes and go home, Mrs. Foley?” Feyre suppressed a shudder at his words.

She gave her best attempt at a smile as she said, “Sure.”   

They made quick work of loading the boxes into the back of the moving van, seeing that she didn’t actually own that much.  Her family's financial situation had prevented her from accumulating much over the years. They had just finished putting the last of the boxes in the truck and were getting ready to leave when Tamlin stopped suddenly.  

Smacking himself in the forehead, he said rapidly, “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you with all the excitement of the evening.  Ianthe called earlier. She was able to make reservations at the Biltmore Estate. We have a wedding date!”

She choked out, “When?”

“December 1.”  he said joyously.  Her mouth dropped open.  December? There was no way they could manage some grand wedding by then.  That was less than two months away! Her blood ran cold at the realization.  Two months… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Hope you enjoyed this part! Please leave comments and feedback! Let me know what you think!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I seriously considered posting these little snippets separately, but I figured I'd put you through enough with the cliffhangers! lol

Feyre fidgeted nervously as Tamlin poured himself a glass of wine.  She had cooked his favorite meal, hoping that it would put him in a more agreeable mood.  This morning, as they were both getting ready for work, they had argued. They were still getting used to living with each other, still getting used to the others habits.  Feyre hadn’t had to share a bathroom with anyone since her sisters had moved out. That morning, Tamlin’s eyes had narrowed slightly each time she had unintentionally got in his way.  At first, she had thought he had been joking when he snarled that she should quit her job. Unfortunately, she quickly found out that he was dead serious. Feyre’s stomach lurched at the thought of quitting her job.  It offered her what she so desperately needed- a touch of normalcy, which she clung to like a lifeline. Everything else in her life had changed so drastically recently. She needed just one thing, anything, to remain the same.  

She cleared her throat nervously and said, “Tam, about this morning…”

His face hardened as he growled, “You’re quitting.  End of discussion.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  So much for his promise to let her make her own decisions.

She wrung her hands under the table as she implored, “But why, Tamlin? Why don’t you want me to work?  I can’t just sit around here all day and do nothing. I would go crazy from boredom.” She bit her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

His lip pulled back as he snarled, “You don’t need to work.  I make enough to take care of the both of us. I want you here, at home.  Where I know you’re safe.”

Feyre’s temper began to boil over as she hissed, “Be reasonable, Tam.  I work at a damned bookstore. Nothing bad is going to happen to me there.”  He brought his fist slamming down onto the table, causing the dishes to rattle.  Feyre flinched, pressing herself back into the chair.

“I said no,” he roared, chest heaving as he stared her down.  While Tamlin seemed to be losing his temper more often lately, she had never seen him like this.  She had never seen him so out of control. She lowered her head in defeat.

Three weeks. Just three weeks left until the wedding.   

*******

Feyre lay in bed, staring morosely up at the ceiling.  She had fallen into the habit of getting out of bed later and later each morning.  Ever since quitting her job at the bookstore, she had found little to occupy her time.  She toyed with the idea of getting out of bed, but dismissed it quickly. What was the point, really?  There was nothing for her to do, save wander around the mausoleum like manor. Her phone, which was resting on the nightstand beside her head, began to vibrate. She didn’t bother to pick it up and see who it was.  If Ianthe was calling, it was bound to be with some minuscule, unimportant question concerning the wedding. The only other people that she talked to regularly were Mor and Dily. She hadn’t responded to their texts or returned their calls in days, though.  

Feyre squeezed her eyes shut and curled into a fetal position.  They were worried about her. She couldn’t fault them for that. But that didn’t mean she could handle hearing the disappointment in their voices day after day.  She willed her body to fall back asleep. Anything to ignore the crippling despair that was slowly killing her. As she drifted off to sleep, a single thought remained.  Tomorrow. I’m getting married tomorrow.

*******

Feyre gazed at her reflection in the mirror.  The dress, bedecked with copious amounts of beading and ruffles, was no less abhorrent than it had been the first time she had slid it on her body.  The only difference was that it now hung a little more loosely off her body. She hadn’t realized, until this moment, how much weight she had recently lost.  She looked, really looked, at herself for the first time in weeks. It was as though a stranger were staring back at her. Even the layers and layers of makeup Ianthe had plastered on her face couldn’t hide the dark circles under her eyes.  Her pale, wan face was blank, devoid of any emotion.

How had Tamlin not noticed the changes in her appearance? How had she not noticed until now?  Feyre was completely dumbfounded. If this was only after two months of living with Tamilin, what would she look like in two years? As the stark realization hit her, she sank down to the ground.  The puffy dress billowed around her and nearly obscured her vision as her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t marry him! She didn’t want to marry him!

Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone.  The smallest hint of a smile formed on her face, the first since moving in with Tamlin, as she found the number she had been searching for.  Feyre felt a rush of warmth at the thought of the violet eyed man whom she hadn’t spoken to in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part!! Please let me know what you think!! I love getting comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	18. Chapter 18

Her face crumpled as the phone continued to ring.  He wasn’t going to answer. A single tear trailed down her check as she hung up.   Feyre covered her mouth with her hand, stifling the sob that threatened to escape.  She couldn’t really blame him, not after she had spent months ignoring his calls and texts.  He had finally given up on her, it seemed. The phone tumbled out of her hand, hitting the floor with a resounding thud.  Maybe this was a sign from the Cauldron. Maybe this was a sign that she needed to forget about Rhys. She roughly wiped her check and stood with deliberate care, not wanting to step on one of the damn ruffles.  She turned and faced the mirror once again. Feyre gazed at her reflection as she slowly lowered the veil over her head. She forced a smile on her face and walked out of the room. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! lol It had to be done!! Please leave comments and feedback!! I love reading your thoughts!!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	19. Chapter 19

Feyre’s heels clacked against the grey marble tile floor as she slowly made her way across the foyer.  Her face hardened as she neared Ianthe, who was furiously pacing back and forth in front of the entranceway.  Despite the expression on her face, she looked rather resplendent in the pale pink dress she donned.  Her blonde hair was pulled back into an elegant twist, exposing her long, graceful neck.  Ianthe was fiddling with an absurdly large diamond necklace, which was probably worth enough to feed an entire country.  Upon hearing Feyre’s footsteps, Ianthe whirled around.   **  
**

She let loose an exasperated sigh, “So nice of you to finally decide to show up, Feyre.”

Choosing to ignore the quip, she peered through the glass doors and into the garden.  Hundreds of well dressed men, women, and children sat in the white, wooden chairs that lined the estate grounds.  Hundreds of people… and not one of them was here for her.  She had decided not to invite Nesta or Elain, though it hadn’t been out of spite.  She hadn’t wanted to expose them to this world, Tamlin’s world, where every word uttered had a double meaning.  Feyre could only imagine the ruckus that would ensue if Nesta were to ever meet Tamlin’s mother.  She might have chuckled at the thought, had it not been for the fact that she felt so incredibly sick to her stomach.

Not even her father was here, though she desperately wished he were.  He was finally receiving the help he so profoundly needed, thanks to Tam.  Not long after moving in with Tamlin, she had gone back home to check in on her father.  She had discovered him on the bathroom floor, completely unresponsive.  She shuddered at the recollection.  Tamlin had arranged for him to be transported from the hospital to the best rehab facility in all of Prythian.  She would forever be in his debt for that alone.  Though she knew it was what was best for him, Feyre still had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that her father was not there today to walk her down the aisle.                

“How much time do we have until the ceremony begins?” she asked, clasping her hands together in front of her.    

Ianthe crossed her arms over her chest and sneered, “Not getting cold feet, are we?”  Feyre twisted the wedding ring on her finger, a nervous habit she had recently developed.   

Not wanting Ianthe to know just how much truth there was to that statement, she squared her shoulders and snapped, “Of course not.”

Before Ianthe had a chance to respond, the string quartet that had been hired began to play the first few notes of Canon in D.  Feyre’s eyes widened at the sound.  

“Here,” hissed Ianthe, shoving an enormous bouquet of white flowers into her hands.  “Count to ten and then follow me.”  Ianthe plucked a second, smaller bouquet from a nearby table.  A saccharine smile appeared on her face as she pulled open the door and sauntered outside.  Feyre’s whole body trembled as she took a step forward.  

“You can do this,” she whispered to herself.  Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.  Her legs wobbled slightly as she stepped through the door.  Feyre could feel the eyes of hundreds of people boring holes into her.  She could endure this. For Tamlin.  He was standing at the other end of the aisle, eyes fixed on her.  He was grinning broadly, without restraint.  One step.  Another.  Her knuckles were turning white from the death grip she had on the bouquet.  Tam was her tether, pulling her forward.   Step after step.  As her focus wavered ever so slightly, her eyes trailed downward until they landed on his boutonniere.  Her blood ran cold at the sight.

NO! NO! NO!

She had told Ianthe no red flowers!  She mentally slapped herself.  She could ignore one little flower.  Ianthe had probably done that as a cruel joke.  She wasn’t about to let that she-devil win!  She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath.  One more step.  Two steps.  Her eyes fluttered open, focusing on the ground directly in front of her.  Feyre’s breath hitched as she took in the the sight before her.  She was swimming in a sea of white and red flowers.  

NO! NO! NO! Not red flowers. Anything but red.  

Feyre’s vision began to swim in and out of focus.  NO! She couldn’t do this!  She couldn’t marry him.  Cauldron, she was going to fall apart right here, in front of everyone.  She swayed slightly on her feet.  She could have sworn someone was yelling her name, but is was hard to tell with all of the roaring in her ears.  The bouquet of flowers fell out of her grasp, tumbling to the ground.  She was dimly aware of someone taking ahold of her elbow.  Ianthe.  Ready to drag her the rest of the way up to the altar.  She squeezed her eyes shut and wrenched her arm back, out of Ianthe’s grip.  Fingers gripped her chin gently and forced her head up.  Her eyes flew open and met the most beautiful pair of violet eyes.  Not Ianthe, but Rhysand.

“Rhys,” she whimpered.  His face was clouded with concern, his eyes never leaving hers.  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m here, Feyre Darling. Breathe.  Just breathe,” he said, taking her hands in his.  She took a shuddering breath.  They were standing so close, she had to tilt her head up slightly in order to see him properly.    

“Good.  And another,” he instructed.  As she drew in another breath, the corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.  Though she was vaguely aware that they were surrounded by hundreds of people, in that moment, no one else mattered.  In that moment, they were completely alone.  Just the two of them.  Just Rhys and Feyre.    

“You came,” she croaked, not breaking eye contact with him for a second.  Rhys cupped her face with his hands and gently kissed her forehead again.  

His eyes blazed as he said, “Always, Feyre Darling.  Always.”  She buried her face into his chest, breathing in his citrus and jasmine scent.  His arms wrapped around her, holding onto her tightly as though he were afraid to let her go.  

She cried out as a vice like grip encircled her arm and roughly wrenched her backwards.

“Get your hands off of her,” Tamlin growled.  

Rhys’s face hardened as he drawled, “I’m not the one manhandling her though, am I?”  

Tamlin scowled, “Feyre, let’s go.”  She stumbled as he pulled her towards the altar.  She dug her heels into the ground and yanked her arm out of his grasp. She was panting hard, staring at him wide eyed.  

She felt Rhys move to her side, giving her the strength to say, “No.  I’m sorry Tamlin, but I can’t marry you.”

Tamlin stepped closer and said in a dangerous tone, “You will marry me, Feyre.  You are mine”    

Rhy’s expression turned murderous as he snapped, “She’s not a possession.  She doesn’t belong to you.”  

Tamlin laughed bitterly, “You’re leaving me? For him? You whore! I should have…”

The rest of his sentence was effectively cut off by Rhys’s fist viciously slamming into his jaw, knocking him down with the force of the blow.  Feyre gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.  Rhys stood over Tamlin, growling in anger. 

“Rhys!” she begged.  As their eyes met, the anger drained from his face, quickly replaced by concern.

“Are you okay, Darling?”

“I… I… I don’t know,” she said honestly.  

“Do you want to leave?” he asked, not quite able to hide the hopeful spark in his eyes.

“Yes. Get me out of here!” she said, with more surety in her voice than there had been in awhile.

Rhys offered his arm to her and grinned, “As my lady wishes.”

“Prick,” she snorted, sliding her arm into his.  

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” he smirked as they began to walk away from the estate.  No one tried to stop them this time.  

“I missed you,” she said quietly.  

“I missed you too, Feyre Darling.”

“Rhys?” she asked, gazing at him from the corners of her eyes.

“Yes, Darling?”

“Why is there grass in your hair?”  

“Strictly speaking, I wasn’t exactly on the guest list.  I had to sneak in,” he explained.  

“And?”

“I may have fallen in a bush while trying to avoid a security guard.”

For the first time in months, Feyre felt like laughing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the last chapter! :D Hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	20. Chapter 20

“You fell in a bush?” Feyre asked, disbelief written all across her face.  He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, though his cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson.  She continued to stare at him they walked arm in arm towards the exit, where she assumed his car was parked.    

He sighed dramatically, though the corners of his eyes twinkled, as he said, “Fine, I’ll tell you.  They wouldn’t let me in without an invitation, so I had to get a little creative. Unfortunately, one of the security guards caught me attempting to sneak in and started to chase me. And… well… I made a slight miscalculation.”  He gave her an impish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. The smile she offered him in return was feeble. 

“A miscalculation? What you really mean is that you fell on your ass,” she said in a flat, emotionless voice.  Feyre reached out her hand tentatively and plucked the grass out of Rhys’s hair, causing his to turn an even deeper shade of red. 

“Technically… yes. I fell on my ass,” he huffed.  He gave her a sidelong look before continuing, “Just do me a favor, please.  Don’t tell Mor or Dily. They’d never let me live it down.” Not having the energy to respond, she remained silent.  Feyre’s shoulders sagged, as though she were carrying an unfathomably heavy weight upon them. She suddenly felt utterly exhausted, wanting nothing more than to lie down somewhere quiet.            

As they made their way through the estate grounds, Feyre’s mind replayed what Tamlin had said over and over, as though it were on a constant loop.  She knew she had done the right thing in breaking off the engagement. Any doubts she may have had were quickly dispelled when he called her a whore.  But where did that leave her now? She had no money to call her own, no job, and no home. She bit her lower lip as tears began to run down her cheeks.  Rhys’s brows furrowed as studied her carefully.

“Feyre Darling, do you want to talk about it?” he asked, concern lacing every word.

She shook her head slightly and croaked, “No.”  After unhooking his arm from hers, he slung it around her shoulders, tucking her in tightly against him.   

“Whenever your ready, just know that I’m here for you,” he said.  Feyre snuggled into him further, laying her head upon his chest. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion.

“No need to thank me, Darling,” Rhys murmured, resting his chin atop her head.  Feyre had been so preoccupied, she hadn’t realized they were nearing his car until she was standing directly in front of it.  Rhys opened the passenger side door for her, sketching a dramatic bow. 

Feyre rolled her eyes and muttered, “Prick.”  Ignoring his smirk, Feyre began shuffling her feet, trying to figure out the best way to climb in.  It quickly became apparent that her dress was not going to fit in the front seat. There were simply too many yards of fabric, too many ruffles.  Her lip drew back in a snarl as she swore viciously. This Cauldron damned dress! She roughly pulled the veil off her head and sent it sailing across the parking lot.  

Rhys, who was giving her an amused look, said, “It appears your dress is a little too… puffy, Feyre Darling.”    

“Call Mor.  See if she can bring some clothes,” Feyre demanded.

“I would Darling, but I left my phone at home,” he said.  She let loose a long string of curse words, stomping her foot on the ground in frustration.  Rhys opened up the trunk and began rummaging through its contents. 

“I have my gym bag back here.  The clothes are clean, but probably way too big,” he called out, hidden from view behind the opened trunk.       

“Give them to me,” Feyre hissed, holding her hand out expectantly. Rhys quickly acquiesced, dropping a bundle of clothing into her hands.  She shoved the plain black shirt harshly over her head. 

He gave her a wolfish grin and purred, “Need any help undressing, Darling?”  Narrowing her eyes, she slowly and deliberately took of her high heeled shoe and then, faster than an asp, hurled it directly at his face.  He caught it deftly in one hand, mere seconds before it struck home. 

He smirked, “It was a good try, Feyre Darling.”  

She rolled her eyes at him and snapped, “Prick.  Now turn around so I can get out of this fucking dress.”  Rhys held up his hands in surrender and slowly spun around.  Feyre wrenched down the zipper and let the strapless dress pool at her feet.  She stepped out of the puffy monstrosity, glaring at it as though it has committed some vile ofence.  She snarled and then gave the pile of tool and gossamer a ferocious kick. Before anyone could see her in her current state, she pulled on the shorts Rhys had given her.  

“Alright, let’s get the hell out of here,” she said, rolling down the waistband of the too big shorts.  Rhys turned to face her, sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants. 

He looked her up and down, a sensuous smile on his face, and purred, “You look good in my clothes, Darling. They suit you.”  This time, the shoe she sent hurtling in his direction found its mark. Rhys swore under his breath, rubbing his forehead where the shoe had struck.  Feyre crossed her arms over her chest with a smug look on her face. 

“Serves you right, you prick,” she huffed. Rhys tipped his head back and roared with laughter.  

“Right you are, Darling,” he chuckled, climbing into the driver’s seat.  Feyre quickly followed suit and climbed into the vehicle beside him. She felt a savage sense of satisfaction as Rhys backed over the appalling dress and drove away.  She sagged against door, leaning her head against the window. They sat in a companionable silence as Rhys drove. 

Feyre eyed him and asked, “How did you know?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Darling.”

“You said you didn’t have your phone.  How did you know to come, if you didn’t see I called?”  

His brows shot up, “You called? When? Why?”  Feyre tore her gaze away from his, swiveling her head so that she was looking out the window. 

“I called right before the ceremony.  I had decided not to go through with it,’’ she muttered.  Taking a deep breath, she continued, “I was calling to ask you to come and get me.”

“But you changed your mind.  I mean, you were walking down the aisle when I got there,”  he implored. Feyre squeezed her eyes shut in order to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.

She took a shuddering breath and said, “I called and you didn’t pick up.  You didn’t answer.” Not able to hold them back any longer, tears began running down her cheeks.  Rhys reached out and enveloped her hand with his. 

“Oh, Feyre Darling! I’m so sorry!” he said, gently lifting her hand up and pressing a kiss along her knuckles.  

“But you came anyways. Why?” she whispered.  

Rhys squeezed her hand a bit tighter as he said, “Apparently, one of Mor’s customers was browsing for a dress to wear to an extremely formal wedding.  My busybody of a cousin was able to wheedle all of pertinent information from her. None of us had heard from you in so long, we were all worried. I was worried.  I needed to make sure that you were alright.” 

Feyre wasn’t sure if it was her who leaned over, or if Rhys had pulled her towards him, but she soon found herself leaning up against him with her head on his shoulder.  

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you like that,” Feyre said quietly.  Rhys wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“Okay.” 

Feyre closed her eyes, letting the familiar scent of citrus lull her into the first peaceful sleep she’d had in months.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope your enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feedback!!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	21. Chapter 21

Feyre nestled further into the pillow, reluctant to leave the comfortable haze of sleep that had enveloped her.  She breathed in the pillow’s soothing citrusy smell, feeling slightly confused.  This was not the cloyingly sweet floral scent of Tamlin’s that she had become accustomed to.  The sound of a low chuckle had her opening her eyes slowly.  As she took in her unfamiliar surroundings, everything that had transpired came rushing back to her in full force.  The wedding.  The flowers.  Leaving Tamlin.  By the Cauldron, she had walked out on Tamlin!  Her face blanched as her eyes trailed down to the ring that still sat upon her finger.    **  
**

“How are you feeling?”  The sound of Rhys’s voice startled her, bringing her back to the present.  She hesitated, not knowing exactly how to answer him.  How was she feeling?  Relieved that she had finally broken it off with Tamlin.  Scared because she had no idea where she was going to go, or what she was going to do.  Ashamed of how she had broken down in front of everyone.       

Deciding that avoidance was the best solution, she asked, “Where am I?”  Her eyes darted around, taking in the details of the bedroom.  The room was large, but not unnecessarily so, as Tamlin’s had been.  Dark, elegant furniture decorated the room, giving it a welcoming, cozy feeling.  The walls were lined with bookshelves, clear evidence that who ever lived here was a bookworm.  

“After you fell asleep, I wasn’t sure where to take you.  So, I brought you here.  My place.”  Feyre’s eyes flew up to meet his.  He was seated in a plush looking chair, positioned next the the bed.  Heat crept up her cheeks.  Cauldron damn her, she was in Rhys’s bed!  

She stuttered, “How did I get in here? I don’t remember waking up until just now.”

Rhys leaned back in the chair and smirked, “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.  I carried you in and, since the guest bed wasn’t made, I put you in here.”  

Feyre covered her face with her hands and moaned, “Cauldron boil me, you carried me in?”

Rhys held out his hands placatingly, “I was a perfect gentleman.” His expression hardened as he continued, “Besides, it wasn’t that difficult actually, considering how much weight you’ve lost.”

Her nostrils flared as she spat out, “Why does it even matter to you? We haven’t even seen each other in months.”

Rhys’s eyes blazed with anger as he said quietly, “I do believe, Feyre Darling, that us not seeing each other was your decision. Not mine.” She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them.    

“You’re right.  I shouldn’t have said that,” she muttered, as her eyes began to pool with tears.  

“And it matters to me, Feyre Darling, because I…” Rhys cut himself off, running a hand through his hair.  He took a deep breath before continuing, “We’re friends Ferye, and I care about what happens to you.”  

Unable to voice a response, Feyre wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded her head.  Rhys stood and stretched, as though he had been sitting for a long time.

“Are you hungry?  I can whip up some pancakes for breakfast, if you like.”  Feyre’s eyes widened in surprise.  Breakfast? Just how long had she been asleep?  

Answering her silent question, he said, “You’ve been asleep for nearly fourteen hours, Feyre Darling.”  She gaped at him, open mouthed.  She hadn’t slept for more than a few hours at night since moving in with Tamlin.

“If you want, you can take a shower while I cook,” he offered.

Feyre staggered out of the bed and scoffed, “You cook? You mean, you can actually make food that is edible?”

Rhys placed a hand on his chest in mock indignation and said, “You wound me, Darling.  I am an amazing chef.  You are in for a real treat.”  Offering her his arm, he purred, “Shall we?”

Feyre snorted, “You are such a nerd, Rhyses.”  Refusing his offered arm, she strutted past him and out of the room.  At the opposite end of the hallway, was the living room.  As Feyre made her way down the hall, she glanced at the art lining the walls.

“The bathroom is on the left and the guest room is to the right,” Rhys said from behind her.

“You live alone?”

“I lived with my friend Cassian up until a few days ago.  He decided to enlist in the military and left town.”  Feyre could detect from his tone of voice that there was much more to the story than he was letting on.  She could also tell that he didn’t want to talk about it, so she didn’t pry any further.  The living room was furnished in a style similar to that of the bedroom- dark, expensive, but at the same time still comfortable looking.  Her gaze wandered around the room, taking in all the photos and nicknacks on display.    

“Pancakes and bacon sound good?” Feyre’s stomach rumbled in response. He smirked, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yes please.  That is, if it’s not too much trouble,” she said, biting her bottom lip and and batting her lashes at him.

“It’s no trouble at all, Feyre Darling,” Rhys grinned, sliding his hands into his pockets.  Feyre rolled her eyes as he swaggered into the kitchen.  The two rooms were separated by a countertop, making the space feel much bigger that it actually was.  Feyre began examining a photograph hanging on the wall while Rhys rummaged around in the cupboards.

“I do have to warn you, Feyre Darling, that Mor and Dily are going to be coming over soon.”

“What?” she squeaked, fingering the hem of the too big shirt self- consciously. 

“After they heard what happened, it was all I could do to hold them off at all.  Mor was here last night, actually.  I got quite the earful when I wouldn’t let her in.”  While Feyre appreciated Mor’s concern, she felt a rush of gratitude that Rhys had been able to dissuade her.

“You told them?” she asked quietly, crossing her arms around her chest.  Violet eyes met hers from across the room.

“Only that you decided not to go through with the wedding and needed a place to stay for the night.  Everything else, it’s is up to you whether or not you tell them.”  How is it that he always knew exactly the right things to say? She looked down at the clothes she was wearing and grimaced.    

“Mor dropped off some clothes and other things she thought you may need. They’re in the bathroom.  Go ahead and get changed, and I’ll finish up in here.”  

Feyre’s shoulders sagged in relief upon hearing Mor had brought her clothes.  She found her way to the bathroom and stepped in, snorting at what she discovered.  Mor had seen fit to bring over an entire bag of clothes, not just a single outfit, as well as a huge basket full of toiletries.  Feyre felt the corners of her mouth pull up slightly.  Maybe she would take a shower after all.  

*******

As Feyre pulled the sweater over her head, she heard voices coming from outside the bathroom door.  Mor and Dily must have arrived.  She gave her reflection a once over, once again feeling grateful to Mor for bringing all of this stuff over.  She would have to make it up to her somehow.  Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and walked out of the bathroom.  She was immediately enveloped in a bone crushing hug.  She staggered slightly, but was able to catch herself before falling down.    

“Dilys, I told you to give her some space,” Rhys chided.  

“You stay out of this, Rhysand,” Dily hissed, pulling back from Feyre.  The small smile on her face fell upon seeing the look on Dily’s.  

“Hi Pickles,” she said, not sure what she had done to provoke the girl’s wrath.  Dily narrowed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“Don’t you ‘Pickles’ me, Feyre Archeron.  Do you know how worried we’ve been about you?” she yelled, silver lining her eyes.  

“I… I… Dily…” she stammered.  Shit.  She hadn’t expected this.  When she had stopped talking to them, she hadn’t realized they would care so much.  Feyre wasn’t used to having people care about her.  The concern they were showing for her hit her hard, like a physical blow to the head.  Mor walked over and put an arm around Dily’s shoulder, facing Feyre.

“I think what Dily is trying to say is that, if you ever stop talking to us like that again, we’re going to throw your ass in the Sidra,” Mor said, eyes shining with tears.

Feyre gave them a watery smile and said, “Deal.”  Mor and Dily pulled her in for another hug, tears unabashedly falling from all three.  Rhys muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Women.”

“Prick,” the three said in unison, laughing through their tears and they continued to embrace.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what was up with this site last night, but I could not get this to post for some reason!! So... you're getting this a little late!! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! And as always, feel free to leave me comments and feedback!!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	22. Chapter 22

Feyre sat at the round, wooden table, staring down at the plate in front of her.  As delicious as the meal Rhys cooked was, she had managed to only eat a small portion of the pancakes and bacon she had been given.  Mor, whose own plate sat empty, reached over and snatched a piece of bacon off of her plate.  

Feyre clucked her tongue, “Your manors are atrocious.”  

Mor playfully nudged Feyre with her elbow, “Oh, please.  You love me.”  Rhys, who was sitting on Feyre’s other side at the table, narrowed his eyes, outright glaring at her almost full plate.  

“Thank you for cooking, Rhyses Pieces,” Dilys said, effectively pulling his attention away from Feyre.  

As Rhys reached over and ruffled the hair on top of her head, Dilys flashed Feyre a conspiratorial smile.  Feyre’s eyes glistened as a feeling of gratitude surged through her.  She lowered her head slightly, breaking eye contact with Dily.  Is that what it’s like? What having a family is like?  If it was, Feyre thought she could get used to it.  

Rhys huffed, “I’ve learned my lesson, Dily.  The last time I forgot to feed Mor, the outcome wasn’t very pretty.”  Feyre glanced at her friend from the corner of her eyes, her lips twitching up slightly.    

Mor’s nostrils flared as she hissed, “Don’t be an ass, Rhysand.  I’m not the one who just ate four pancakes.”  

Rhys smirked, crossing his arms over his chest and said, “Five, actually.”  

Mor turned to Feyre and begged, “Smack him for me!  Just once.  He deserves it!”  

Feyre quirked a brow and drawled, “You’re on your on, Mor. I’m staying out of this one.”

“Traitor,” she hissed.  Feyre stuck her tongue out, unable to keep the giggle from escaping her as she did so   

Seemingly of their own volition, her eyes drifted over to Rhys, which was something that had been happening all morning, much to her chagrin.  He was gazing at her, eyes bright with happiness.  She felt heat begin to creep up her cheeks as he smirked at her.  Feyre rolled her eyes and looked away, missing the furtive glances Dily and Mor where exchanging.    

“So cousin, now that you’ve eaten most of my food, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Mor eyed her carefully as she said, “Well, that depends.  What are your plans, Feyre?”  She shrank back in her seat, looking down at the table top.  Feyre was fully aware of what Mor was actually asking.  What was she planning on doing, now that she had left Tamlin?  The problem was, she had no idea!  

“Mor,” Rhys hissed.

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing heavily, “It’s fine, Rhys.” She hesitated before saying, “Honestly… I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“You don’t have to decide right away, Fey,” Mor said, laying a hand on her shoulder.   

Feyre wrapped her arms around herself and shrugged, “I guess I’ll have to beg Helion for my old job back…. But that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Rhys, perceptive as always, asked, “So, what is the problem?”  Feyre rested her head on the back of the chair and fixed her eyes on the ceiling.

She loosed a heavy breath and said, “Tamlin has been helping my family, financially speaking, for awhile now.  We’re indebted to him.  I’m just not looking forward to moving back home and having that thrown in my face.  Everywhere I look, it’ll be another reminder.  But, I don’t really have much of a choice, though.”

“Bullshit,” Dily hissed.  Feyre’s head whipped around, forehead wrinkling as she assessed the girl.  

“Excuse me?” she stuttered, her voice an octave too high.

Dily gave her an impish grin and said, “You don’t need to move back home.”

Feyre snorted, “So, where exactly am I supposed to live?  I haven’t spoken to my sisters in… months.  They wouldn’t exactly be very welcoming.  So unless you have some other grand plan, it looks like I’m stuck moving back home.”

Dily smiled sweetly and said, “I do believe that my dearest brother has a spare room.”  Feyre gaped, openly staring at Dily, who had the audacity to waggle her eyebrows suggestively.        

Feyre stuttered, “But… I… Rhys…”  She looked at Rhys beseechingly, trusting that he would help his sister to see reason.  He gave her a long, considering look as he drummed his fingers on the table.  

“You know, that’s not a half bad idea.  Cassian just moved out, so his room is empty.  And the rent is fairly cheap here.  What do you say, Feyre Darling?  Would you like to move in with me?”

“You can’t be serious! We would tear each other to pieces,” she huffed.  

“Oh, we most definitely will.  That’s why it’ll be so much fun,” he purred.  

Insufferable prick!  With his smirking and his bedroom eyes.  Even if she… no.  She stamped out the fire in her belly before it had a chance to ignite.  What was wrong with her? She had just broken off her engagement with Tamlin.  It was way too soon for her to be thinking about anyone else like that.  Even though, at that very moment, her traitorous eyes snaked down to the tattoo that was peeking out from the collar of his shirt.  She wondered just how far down his chiseled torso they… Get ahold of yourself, Feyre.   She mentally slapped herself, tearing her eyes away from him his chest.  He smirked at her, as though he knew exactly what she had been thinking.  The thing was, unless she wanted to move back home, she had nowhere else to go.  It was either put up with reminders of her failed relationship, or stay here with Rhys.  She gulped audibly.  

Feyre tried desperately to calm her beating heart as she said, “I suppose we can try it. We’d have to set up some ground rules, though.” She was struck momentarily speechless by the quite joy that engulfed his features.  

“Well, Feyre Darling, it looks as though you have yourself a deal,” he purred.  

Even though Feyre couldn’t stop the smile from forming on her face, the same word repeated in her mind over and over and over, as though on a vicious loop.

Whore. Whore. Whore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	23. Chapter 23

_“Tam? Are you home?” Feyre yelled as she walked through the front door of the manor. Tired from her latest luncheon with his mother, she was looking forward to relaxing as she read the newest book she had purchased.  While her relationship with Abria had improved since the wedding, it still remained rather tenuous.   Lately, Abria had been pressuring Feyre to stop taking her contraceptive pills.  Feyre shook her head in annoyance as she placed her purse on the table.  A thumping noise coming from the bedroom caught her attention.  Why was Tamlin home at this time of day, anyways?  He normally ate lunch with his coworkers, not here at home._

_“Tam?” she called, heading down the hall towards their bedroom.  Her blood froze as a loud, wanton moan sounded from the other side of the bedroom door.  A female’s moan.  She approached carefully, so as to go unnoticed.  She pushed open the door a crack and silently slipped inside.  She flinched, as though she had been physically struck, as she took in the scene before her.  Ianthe sat astride Tamlin, head thrown back in ecstasy.  Her pert breasts bounced up and down as she rode him roughly.  Feyre took in a sharp breath, drawing Ianthe’s attention to her._

_Ianthe gave her an adder’s smile and said, “Oh look Tamlin, she’s crying.  Poor thing actually thought you loved her.”  Ianthe turned back to face Tamlin, dismissing her entirely. Feyre watched in abject horror as her husband’s hands caressed another woman’s backside, pounding into her from below. Tamlin didn’t bother to acknowledge her standing there, his gaze never once leaving Ianthe’s.  Feyre wasn’t sure if it would have been better or worse if he had.  Tamlin surged forward, capturing Ianthe’s lips with his own.  Feyre staggered backwards, hitting her head on the door._

_Tamlin pulled back and sneered, “How could I ever love a whore like her?” He and Ianthe laughed maliciously as she fled from the room._   

 *******     

Feyre bolted out of the bed and hurtled out of the room.  Echoes of laughter chased her as she stumbled into the bathroom. She knelt before the toilet and heaved up the contents of her roiling stomach.  She became dimly aware of light footsteps sounding from down the hall.  Shit.  She didn’t want anyone seeing her like this, especially Rhys.  Before she could make any attempt to close the door, her stomach heaved again.  Gentle hands hands lifted her hair away from her face, creating a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck.  

“Breathe, Feyre Darling.  It’ll be over soon.  Keep breathing,” he instructed, while rubbing small, soothing circles on her back.  When the retching finally subsided, she reached out with a shaky hand and flushed the toilet.  She slowly sat down and drew her knees up to her chest.  She wrapped her arms around her legs, shivering slightly in the thin nightgown Mor had provided.  Rhys took a seat on the bathtub next to her, not once stopping the ministrations on her back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked. 

“You must think I’m pretty stupid, huh?” she accused, eyes fixed on the ground.  Feyre was fairly certain that middle of the night bathroom powwows were not what Rhys had in mind when he had suggested she move in.  Who would want to deal with that sort of mess? 

“Why would you say that?” he asked carefully.  Feyre could feel his eyes on her.  

“Because… because I stayed with him for so long, even though it wasn’t a healthy relationship.  I wasn’t happy, but I stayed anyways.”

“Actually, I think what you did was pretty courageous.”

She snorted, “I ran away from my fiancé on our wedding day.  That doesn’t seem much like courage to me.”  Rhys cupped her chin with his hand gently, raising her head slightly until she met his gaze.

“You decided to leave a bad situation, which was something he didn’t make very easy for you.  So yes, Feyre Darling, I do think that’s pretty brave.”

Feyre snorted, “You’re so full of shit, Rhys.”

His eyes narrowed, “I’m serious, Darling.  In the end, you chose what was best for you.  You chose.” The word clanged through her as she gazed into his violet eyes.  Chose.  She had decided to leave Tamlin. Not because anyone had told her to.  No, she left Tamlin because she had wanted to.  When had being able to make her own decisions come to feel like such a privilege, instead of an innate right?

Tears pooled in her eyes as she whispered, “Thanks, Rhyses.”

“Anytime, Darling,” he said.  He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her check. Feyre’s face turned crimson at the contact and she had to resist the urge to place a hand on her cheek.

“Now come on. Let’s get you out of here,” he said, releasing her chin and stepping back.  She immediately missed the warmth of his body.  After entering the hall, he turned towards his own bedroom.  

“Good night, Darling.” 

She hesitated a moment before calling out, “Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay with me?  Just until I fall asleep, that is,” she said, biting her lower lip.  

“Of course, Feyre Darling,” he said.  His whole face lit up as he said, “I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	24. Chapter 24

Rhys's POV

***

Rhys wanted desperately to wrap his arms around Feyre and never let her go.  Stepping away from her had taken every ounce of willpower and self control he possessed.   **  
**

“Good night, Darling,” he said, stepping down the hall towards his bedroom.  Feyre would never know how much walking away from her in this moment was costing him.  Every instinct he had was roaring at him to turn around and gather her into his arms.  He was not Tamlin, though.  He would never take her choices away from her.  Just the thought of her ex-fiancé had his lip pulling back in a snarl.  Cauldron, punching him had been so satisfying.  Rhys had wanted to pay back every hurt Tamlin had inflicted upon Feyre in kind.  He would have too, had she had not called out for him to stop.

“Rhys?” she asked, so quietly he almost missed it.  He stopped dead in his tracks.  He struggled to rein in his tumultuous emotions and forced a smile on his face.  

He slowly pivoted to face her and drawled, “Yes?”

“Will you stay with me?  Just until I fall asleep, that is,” she said, biting her lower lip.  His heart nearly jumped out of his chest.  The sheer openness and vulnerability in her expression nearly wrecked him right then and there.  Did she truly not have any idea how utterly and completely at her mercy he was?  Saying no to her wasn’t even a possibility at this point.  It didn't matter what she asked of him.  For her, he would do anything.  

“Of course, Feyre Darling.  I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to,” he purred.  Her shoulders sagged slightly in relief as she turned and walked into Cass’s… No. Her bedroom.  The thought of his wayward brother had him scowling deeply.  But now was not the time to speculate what Cassian was doing at the moment.  Not when Feyre needed him.  Pushing Cass out of his mind, he followed her into the room.  Feyre climbed into the bed and nestled down under the blankets, patting the mattress next to her expectantly.  His mouth went dry as he approached.  Not wanting to overstep his bounds, he sat perched on the edge of the mattress.

“Tell me something,” she demanded.

He chuckled, “What, pray tell, would you like me to say, Darling?”        

“Something. Anything.  It doesn't matter, really.  I just want to hear your voice.”  A feint blush crept up his cheeks.    

“Seems like you just can’t get enough of me, Darling,” he purred.

“Prick,” she huffed, though he could have sworn she was smiling slightly.  

It was moments like this, as she was looking up at him through those impossibly long lashes, that gave him hope.  Hope that, one day, they may have a future together. He ran a hand through his hair, searching for something to say.

“So I have officially been corrupted by Dily,” he said with a smirk, knowing full well that she would give him hell for what he was about to admit.  

Feyre snorted, “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that.”

“It’s true.  I just finished Empire of Storms.  I have been fully converted into a fan of the series.”  He sat in complete and utter awe and Feyre began cackling with laughter.  Cauldron, she was divine!  

“Tell me about your favorite books,” she demanded.

“Bossy little thing, aren't you?” he teased.  Feyre reached out to smack him, but he was faster.  He swiftly captured the offending limb and pressed his lips against the palm of her hand.  She clucked her tongue at him, but didn’t make any attempts to pull her hand out of his grasp.  He began telling her about his favorite books, ones that had filled him with hope and joy.  Maybe it was foolish, but he couldn’t help but to think that some of the happiness he had found in his favorite books could somehow find their way to her.  

He relished the feeling of her skin against his.  He rubbed lazy circles over her knuckles, marveling at how well they fit together.  It was as though they had been made for each other.  As he continued talking, her eyelids began to droop. 

********* **

Rhys wasn’t sure how long he had sat there, holding onto her hand.  He had remained positioned at her side long after she had drifted off to sleep.  

“Good night, my darling,” he whispered.  He leaned forward and placed a kiss upon her brow.  As carefully and quietly as he could manage, he slid off the bed and tiptoed across the room.  As Rhys stood in the doorway gazing at her sleeping form, he was certain of two things.  The first was that Feyre would be alright eventually.  The wounds that had been inflicted upon her would slowly heal, but they would heal.  He, Mor, and Dilys would make certain of that.  The second, was that he was completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with this woman.  And she had absolutely no idea.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little bit!! Please leave me comments and feedback!!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	25. Chapter 25

Feyre paced back and forth across the plush carpet, running a hand roughly through her hair.  

“Fey… calm down.  It’s going to be alright.  We’ll all be there with you,” Mor said from her perch on the couch.  

Dily, who was sprawled out on the floor in front of Mor, patted the floor beside her and said, “Sit down before you have a panic attack.  Everything is going to be fine.”

Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose as she moaned, “But what if he’s there?  I don’t think I can face him. Not yet.” Maybe not ever. Feyre didn’t think she would be ready to face Tamlin for a long, long time, seeing as how she had walked out on him in the middle of their wedding.  After surviving a week on the clothes and other provisions Mor had provided, her friends had finally convinced her to return to Tamlin’s manor to collect her things. Most of her belongings still remained in boxes, hidden away in some forgotten closet of Tamlin’s.  He had objected to her unpacking the few, precious nicknacks and books she owned, seeing as how they would clash with the decor of the manor.

“Rhys and Az can kick his ass for you if he’s there,” Dily hissed, eliciting a giggle from Mor.

“Who’s ass am I kicking?” Rhys asked cheerfully as he strolled into the room, hands tucked into his pockets.  

“Feyre rolled her eyes and snapped, “No one.  Cauldron, you are all insufferable.”

“Don’t mind Feyre.  She’s just having a moment,” Mor huffed.  Feyre shot her a withering glare. Rhys slowly approached, taking both of her hands in his.  

“We don’t have to do this today, Fayre Darling.  If you’re not ready, just say the word,” he said, face clouded with worry.  Feyre held his gaze for a moment before laying her forehead on his chest. He released his hold of her hands and wrapped his arms around her tightly, bringing her ever closer to him.  She breathed in his familiar scent, letting the citrusy smell wash over her and calm her nerves. As he ran soothing strokes up and down her back, Feyre was struck by how natural it felt to be in his arms, to be held by him.  They seemed to fit together perfectly. Dismissing the errant thought, she lifted her head off his chest and met his gaze.

“No, I’m fine.  You were right. I need to do this,” she said with as much courage as she could muster.  

“We’ll be with you every step of the way.”  He grinned fiendishly before continuing, “Besides, if Celaena Sardothien can spend a year in Endovier and survive, you can survive seeing your ex for five minutes.”  

Narrowing her eyes, she huffed, “You are the biggest dork, Rhys.”

“What?” he asked, giving her an impish grin. Feyre chuckled lightly, stepping out of the embrace.  Somehow, he always knew exactly how to cheer her up.

She smacked his chest playfully and said, “Thanks, Nerd Boy.”

“Anytime, Darling,” he said, eyes sparkling as he grinned at her.  

“By the Cauldron, would you two just kiss already?  The amount of sexual tension in the room is getting disgusting,” Dily groaned.

Feyre whirled around and squawked, “What the hell, Pickles?”  Dily and Mor both raised their brows incredulously. Her cheeks turned a deep shade of red.     

“Dilys, you little…”  Before Rhys was able to finish that sentence, someone began knocking on the door.

“That’s probably Az,” Dily chirped as she jumped up off the ground.  She winked at Feyre mischievously and pranced over to the door.

Feyre didn’t know much their adopted brother, just that he was around Rhys’s age and also attended Prythian University.  As Dily greeted the newcomer enthusiastically, Feyre gave him a once over. Surprisingly, he and Rhys seemed to have several of the same physical traits.  They had the same dark hair and skin tone. He seemed friendly enough, though he seemed to be a bit more guarded than Rhys.

He walked over to her, smiling warmly, and said, “I’m Azriel, but feel free to call me Az.  It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Feyre. I’ve heard so much about you.” By the Cauldron, what had he heard?  No doubt he knew about her running out on Tamlin, seeing as though he were here today to help her collect her things.     

“Nice to meet you too.  Thanks for offering to help out today,” she stammered, heat creeping up her neck and cheeks.  Feyre had always been an independent person, sometimes to a fault. Asking others for help had never been easy for her.  It was one thing to have Mor, Rhys, and Dily helping her. Az, on the other hand, was a perfect stranger.

“It’s no problem at all.  Besides, it gives me an excuse to meet the girl that my brother has…”

“Well, we should probably get going,” Rhys interrupted, silencing his brother with a vicious glare.  While a small part of her wondered about what Az had been getting ready to say, and why Rhys had cut him off so abruptly, she couldn’t rid herself of the image of Tamlin’s face as she had walked away from him.  Ferye squared her shoulders. Time to face the consequences of her actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Feel free to leave comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	26. Chapter 26

Feyre’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she shuffled up the walkway.  The little flower gardens she used to adore now looked… fake.  This house was nothing more than pretty packaging on an empty box.  That’s what life has been here… completely empty.  It amazed her how, after only one week, she felt more at home in Rhys’s apartment than she ever had here.   **  
**

“Fey? You okay?” Dily asked, throwing her arm around Feyre’s shoulders.      

“Yeah, let’s just get this over with,” she ground out.  Gathering her courage, she retrieved the spare key from its hiding place and let them in.  Now was not the time for distractions.  She needed to focus on the task at hand. Tamlin’s car hadn’t been in the driveway, thank the Cauldron.  Feyre squared her shoulders and got to work.  Maybe, just maybe, she could get out of this unscathed.

***  

“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my house?” roared an all too familiar voice.  Feyre flinched at the rage permeating his words.  Shit. Shit. Shit.  She slowly pivoted around and faced the man whom she had left at the altar.  Tamlin stood in the doorway with a murderous expression upon his face.  Dily and Mor were instantly at her side, unabashedly glowering at him.  Feyre felt a rush of gratitude for her friends at that moment.  They trusted that she could handle this on her own, but offered their silent support just in case she needed their help.

“Hello Tamlin,” she said, her entire body trembling.  His green eyes were burning with anger as they locked onto hers.  Feyre fought the urge to recoil under his scrutiny.          

“Feyre,” he said, as though her name as though it were a vile, filthy curse word.  A muscle in his jaw twitched as he sneered, “Why are you here?  What… has he tired of you already?”

“Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Rhys chided as he strolled forward, not so subtly positioning himself between her and Tamlin.     

“You.” Tamlin’s lip pulled back in a snarl.  His hands were fisted at his side as he took a step towards Rhys.

“Me,” Rhys smirked, sliding his hands in his pockets.   

“Leave.  Now,” Tamlin said menacingly.  Az, who had been observing Tamlin with narrowed brows, advanced until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Rhys.

“We’ll leave as soon as Feyre Darling finishes collecting her things,” Rhys purred, causing Tamlin’s face to turn scarlet. Cauldron damn him.Was he trying to start a fight?  She hurried forward, grabbing Rhys by the elbow.  

“There’s just a few more things we need to grab and then we’ll be leaving,” Feyre said, her voice sounding much more confident then she was actually feeling.

“Fine.  Get your shit and get out,” he growled.  Feyre yanked on Rhys’s arm, pulling him away from Tamlin.  They worked quickly and silently to gather what little remained.  Tamlin was leaning against the doorframe, an angry guard dog watching their every move.  The tension in the room was palpable.      

“That’s it.  Let’s go,” Feyre said as she grabbed the last article of clothing hanging in the closet and hastily shoved it into a suitcase. A quick glance around the room told her they had gotten everything of value.  Well, value to her anyways.  At this point, if something got left behind, it could be easily replaced.

Tamlin crossed his arms over his chest, nearly growling, as they moved towards that door.  He moved back half a step to let them pass.  As she was walking through through the threshold, a thought suddenly struck her.  As insufferable as he was, Rhys had been right all along.  All those hours he had spent talking about her finding closer… it finally made sense.  She could never truly be happy until she freed herself from this gilded cage once and for all.    

“You guys go on.  I’ll be right out.”   

“What?” Mor squawked, whirling around to face her.

Rhys furrowed his brows and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She gave them what she hopped was a reassuring smile and said, “I’ll be fine. I promise.”  His eyes glinted as he gave her a searching look.

After a heartbeat, he nodded grimly and said, “We’ll be right outside if you need us.”   

Feyre pivoted around, coming face to face with Tamlin.  She could do this.  She needed to do this.  She reached her hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulled out her engagement ring.  

She offered it to him and whispered, “I am sorry, Tamlin.”  His expression softened imperceptibly as he reached out and took the ring from her outstretched arm.   

He moaned, “Why Feyre? How can you do this to me?  After everything I did for you!”

“I am grateful for everything  you did for my family.  I will always be grateful.  But that can’t be the reason I stay.  I wasn’t happy Tam.  I hadn’t been for a long time. I’m sorry, but I can’t be with you anymore.” 

“How can you say that? We love each other, don’t we? I love you. Isn’t that enough?    

Feyre placed he hands on her hips and laughed bitterly, “Tamlin, you may have spent money on me.  Cauldron knows how much those frilly dresses alone cost.  But you also took away my choices… my freedom.  In the end, I was no better than your prisoner.”

Tamlin ran a hand through his hair roughly and snapped, “I was trying to protect you.  To keep you safe.  Why can’t you see that?”

Tamlin had loved her and she had loved him.  But his love had come with expectations.  Demands.  He had been selfish in his love, never taking her own wishes into consideration.  Mor and Dily had stood by her side, supporting her as she fought her own battle.  And Rhys… she knew he hadn’t wanted to leave her in here, but he did anyway because he had trusted that she could handle herself.  What they gave her… that was what she really needed.      

“Because that’s not what unconditional love is, Tamlin,” she said sadly, turning away from him.   

“Feyre, wait! You can’t leave! I need you,” he cried.    

She turned around, cocking her head to the side, and said, “But the thing is Tamlin, I don’t need you. Not anymore.” 

Feeling as though a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders, she walked out of the manor.  Not once did she turn around and look back.    

Her new family was waiting right outside the front door, looking rather tense.  Each visibly sighed in relief as she sauntered through the door.    

“Everything alright, Feyre Darling?” Rhys asked, his expression clouded with concern.

She smiled brightly and said, “Never better, Rhyses Pieces.”  

“Good. Now let’s get the hell out of this shit-hole. I’m starving,” Dily groaned, leading the way back to the vehicles.   

“You’re always hungry,” Mor huffed.  Before she could take more than a few steps, Rhys took ahold of her hand, gently stopping her from continuing.  

She quirked a brow at him as she asked, “What is it, Rhys?”

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, and said, “I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you.  You handled yourself beautifully just now.”  

“Thank you.  That means a lot,” she said, silver lining her eyes.  Rhys drew nearer and pressed lingering kiss to her cheek.  And Cauldron damn her straight to hell… her breath hitched slightly at the contact.    

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	27. Chapter 27

“So, he wasn’t completely hideous looking, I’ll give him that, but talk about an asshole,” Dily sneered.   **  
**

“Dilys!  Cauldron boil and fry me! What is the matter with you?” Rhys hissed, pinching the bridge of his nose.  

“What?  It’s true!” she huffed, resting her elbows on the table top.  

Mor, who was helping herself to another slice of pizza, drawled, “I really wish you had let Rhys punch him again, Fey.”  

“Seriously. He deserved it,” Dily huffed.  Feyre picked at the half eaten slice of pizza on her plate.  She had been extremely glad that they had been able to avoid getting into a physical altercation with Tamlin. The last thing she had wanted was for Rhys to get hurt on her account.  Now that they had returned to the apartment, she wanted nothing more than to forget about the whole incident.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Az watching her.  She swiveled in her chair slightly and met his gaze.  A myriad of emotions flashed on his face as he took her in.  

“Let’s change the subject.  I, for one, am sick of talking about that idiot,” Az said as he gave her a wink.  Feyre got the impression that Az was both extremely observant and perceptive.  She tucked that bit of information away for later.  She gave him a grateful smile.                   

“Fine. We’ll change the subject.”  Dily gave Az a mischievous look as she continued, “So, are you bringing a date to the christmas party this year?” Feyre watched in fascination as the man beside her turned crimson.    

“Not that it’s any of your business… but no.  I’m not bringing a date,” he stammered.

Rhys clapped him on the back roughly and said, “Not to worry, brother.  It seems as though all of us are going stag this year.”

“Speak for yourself,” Mor said nonchalantly as she inspected a perfectly manicured nail.  

“Oh? And who are you bringing?” Dily said, wiggling her eyebrows.  

“Andromache. She’s the one I keep running into at the coffee shop,” Mor said, her whole face lighting up.  

Feyre squealed, “You finally asked her out? I told you she was into you!”

Mor nodded, “You were right Fey!  I think she really liked me, which is good, since I really like her!”

“Of course she said yes.  You’re amazing! Who wouldn’t want to go with you?’ Dily said with a huge smile.  

“Who’s Christmas party is it? What’s it like?” Feyre asked, curious about how her friends celebrate the holiday.  She hadn’t celebrated many holidays over the years, given her family's financial situation.

“Dily rubbed her hands together excitedly and said, “My father’s company has a huge party every Christmas Eve.  They always go all out with the food, entertainment, and everything.  It’s amazing.”

“It’s not as great as she’s making it out to be,” Rhys drawled.  

“She’s just excited because this year they’re letting her eat at the grownup table. For once,” Mor sneered.  Dily stuck her tongue out at Mor dramatically.     

“I have an idea… Rhys, why don’t you take Feyre as your date? It would be such a shame if she had to miss it,” Az of all people drawled.  What the hell?  Feyre wasn’t sure if she or Rhys had turned a brighter shade of red.  

Rhys rubbed the back of his neck and stammered, “How about it, Feyre Darling?  Would you like to go to the Christmas party with me? Just as friends, of course.”

A thrill ran  through her and she answered, “Sure. Why not. We can go as friends. ”

***** ******

In the two weeks since her ill fated wedding day, Feyre had come to relish her newfound freedom.  She snorted.  Who could have ever predicted that she would one day feel grateful for being able to work?  She had gotten her job back at Helion’s, thank the Cauldron, with little trouble. She was manning the register at the end of what had turned out to be a pretty uneventful afternoon when her phone began to vibrate.        **  
**

Rhyses Pieces: You’re at work, aren't you?

Ferye couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face.  Even though she technically hadn’t known him for more than a few months, she had come to cherish their friendship.  His witty sense of humor could make her laugh even when she was in the worst of moods.  

Feyre: The last time you asked me that, both you and the she- devil showed up…

Rhyses Pieces: Hey! At least I came with good intentions!!

Bringing her that Harry Potter book had been such a sweet gesture! She bit her bottom lip as she fingered the book in her lap.  After Ianthe had shown up unexpectedly, she had left his gift at the bookstore for safekeeping.  And then everything had happened with Tamlin… so she hadn’t had a chance to actually begin reading it until recently.  Feyre had told Rhys just last night that she was close to finishing the book.  Is that why he was texting? Was he bringing her the next book in the series? She couldn’t hold back the little excited squeak that escaped her mouth.    

Feyre: True :)

Feyre: What are planning???

Rhyses Pieces: ME? I’m hurt that you would make such ghastly incriminations!

Feyre: RHYS!!!

Rhyses Pieces: Yes, Feyre Darling?

Feyre: Tell me!

Rhyses Pieces: Nope. But I’ll show you! ;)

Feyre whipped her head around just in time to watch Rhys walk through the door.  

“Hello Feyre Darling!” he purred as he strolled over to her.  It did not escape her notice that his hands were positioned suspiciously behind his back.  

She narrowed her eyes and huffed, “What are you up to?”

He smiled coyly at he and said, “I brought you something.”  She had been right! Rhys got her another Harry Potter book!

“Hand it over!” she said squealed.  

“Well, aren’t you mighty bossy today,” he said, pursing his lips

“Rhys!” she whined.  The corners of Rhys’s mouth twitched upward.  With a flourish, brought one of his arms around from behind his back and handed her a very large book.  Feyre’s face fell as she studied the rather dreary looking book.  

“What is this?” she asked, trying to hide her disappointment.

“This, Feyre Darling, is a book to help you prepare,” he said, running his hand though his hair.          

“Prepare for what?” she asked as she quirked a brow a him.

He scrutinized her warily as he said, “For taking the High School Equivalency Test.  I’m going to help you get your GED.”

“You have got to be kidding me!” she hissed.  She knew telling him that she had never graduated high school would end up biting her in the ass.  She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.  

“I thought you might react this way, so I brought you a peace offering,” he grinned, removing his other hand from behind his back.  Feyre’s eyes sparkled as he placed a hardcover copy of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets into her awaiting hands.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	28. Chapter 28

“Feyre, why do you keep scowling every time I mention Rhys’s name?” Mor asked, cocking her head to one side.  They were both seated on the plush couch, with wine glasses in hand.  It was just a few days before the Christmas party, and Feyre had invited her over for a girls’ night.  Rhys had left earlier in the evening to help Az move some stuff around in his apartment, and she hadn’t wanted to spend the evening alone.  Feyre had also thought it would be a good opportunity to get the fashionista’s opinion on what dress she should wear to the Christmas party.  However, if the smirk Mor was now giving her was any indication, there seemed little chance of that happening anytime soon.

Feyre crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, “Because he’s a nosey prick, that’s why.”   

“What did he do this time?” Mor snorted, her eyes twinkling with amusement.  Feyre glowered.  True to his word, Rhys had insisted on working with her each evening to help her prepare for high school equivalency exam.  The very day he had gifted her that Cauldron damned book, Rhys had seen fit to begin their “lessons.”  She had tried to dissuade him by suggesting that he should be focusing on his own upcoming exams, but it had been useless.

Feyre turned crimson as she began to describe the events of her study session with him the previous evening.  Rhys had been trying to help her with a particularly painful linear equation.  It did not go well, to say the least.

_“This is so stupid, Rhys. I’m never going to use this. Ever,” she moaned, throwing her pencil down on the table.  Rhys, who was sitting in the chair next to her, draped his arm across her shoulders._

_“Don’t get discouraged, Feyre Darling.  You’re doing amazingly well considering…”_

_“Considering what?  How fucking stupid I am?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.  A look of hurt flashed across his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.  Feyre knew she was being unfair to him.  After all, he was only trying to help her.  That wasn’t enough to stop every single one of her insecurities from roaring to life as she stared at that impossible problem._

_“Actually, what I was…”_

_“I’m not some charity case, Rhysand,” Feyre snarled as she jumped up out of her chair and stalked several paces away from the table.  She ran a hand through her hair roughly and continued, “I’m perfectly fine just the way I am.  You don’t need to fix me.”_

_“What I was going to say Darling, if you would let me finish, was that you are doing well considering how little time we’ve been practicing,” he said, giving her a pointed look._

_“Pfffft.  You’re so full of shit, Rhysand,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically._

_His eyebrows narrowed slightly as he said quietly, “Call me Rhysand one more time. I dare you.”  His words were kindling to her already smoldering temper.  She sauntered over to him, her hips swishing as she closed the distance between them.  She stopped directly in front of him and placed her hands on her hips._

_“Fuck. Off. Rhysand,” she purred, placing extra emphasis on the final word. His eyes sparked with mischief as he stood up slowly.  As they stood, nearly nose-to-nose, he gave her a lazy smile.  Then, faster than she was able to detect, Rhys snatched his half full glass of water from the table and poured it over her head.  She shrieked in outrage and jumped back._

_“WHAT THE HELL?!!?” she roared, harshly wiping her face with the back of her hand._

_He smirked, “It seemed as though you needed to cool down just a little bit, Feyre Darling.”_

_“Oh, you are going to regret that!” she snarled as she spun around and marched into the kitchen.  Feyre was fuming as she scavenged the kitchen for proper ammunition.  Oh, he had some nerve! How dare he!  Eying the can of cool whip on the counter, she grinned deviously.  Just as she knew he would, Rhys soon followed her into the kitchen.  She kept her back to him as he entered, making sure he was oblivious to her plans._

_“Feyre, I’m sorry if…” Faster than an asp, she whirled around unleashed her weapon upon him.  In no time, he was covered head to toe in the sugary substance.  Rhys stood in a stunned silence for a full moment before he threw back his head and roared with laughter._

_When he was able to compose himself, he grinned wickedly, “You, my dear, had better run.”_

_The battle that had ensued left both the apartment and their clothes in ruins.  They eventually collapsed into the kitchen floor, giggling at how ridiculous they both looked._

_Feyre leaned against the cabinets as she snickered, “You look ridiculous, Rhyses.”  He slid across the floor until he was leaning against the cabinet next to her, so close their elbows brushed together._

_“Look who’s talking, Feyre Darling!” he smirked._

_Feyre looked down at her shirt and huffed, “By the Cauldron! Look at what you did to me!”_

_“You’re the one who started the food fight, Darling,” he said, pointing to the now empty can of cool whip._

_She tentatively prodded her cheek and groaned, “Is that peanut butter?”  Rhys leaned forward and slowly ran his tongue along the edge of her jaw.  He pulled back slightly, but close enough that they were sharing breath.  His eyes blazed as the met hers.  Feyre’s breath hitched as heat pounded between her legs._

_“Delicious,” he purred._

_“I better get cleaned up.  I’m going to go take a shower,” she blurted out as she jumped up, practically running out of the room._

Mor nearly choked on her wine she as she began howling with laughter.   

“He said you were delicious?” Mor snorted, wiping tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

Feyre scowled and said, “It’s not funny, Mor.  It was so embarrassing!”

She huffed, “Why? It’s not a big deal unless…” Mor’s eyes went wide, her voice trailing off.

“Unless?”

“Holy shit! You like him, don’t you?”

Feyre felt heat creep up her neck and cheeks, as she stammered, “No! Don’t be ridiculous!”

Mor squealed, “Yes, you do! I knew it!”

“I just left Tamlin, I couldn’t possibly…”

“It’s okay, Feyre.  You’re allowed to have feelings for someone else.” Feyre bit her bottom lip.  Refusing to meet Mor’s gaze, she stared fixedly at her nails.

“Well, I don’t like him like that,” she huffed.  Lie. Such a complete and utter lie.  Judging by the look on Mor’s face, she was thinking exactly the same thing.

“Alright. Whatever you say, Fey,” Mor said, her brows rising in disbelief.  She covered her face with her hands and groaned.

“Feyre Archeron! Just admit it!”

“Fine! I like him! Are you happy now?” she hissed.

Mor grinned broadly and said, “Yes, I am actually. Now, what are you planning on wearing on your date with my idiot cousin?”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	29. Chapter 29

Feyre anxiously ran a hand down the bodice of her dress as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.  Not for the first time in the past few minutes, she wondered if choosing this particular dress for the party had been a mistake.  When she had shown it to Mor, her friend had squealed loudly and had practically jumped up and down with excitement.  Mor had insisted that she wear the dress, saying that Rhys wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of her the entire night. **  
**

Feyre couldn’t remember ever wearing anything so beautiful.  That was exactly the problem, though.  Rhys had invited her to accompany him as a friend, not as an actual date.  She didn’t want to look as though she were trying too hard… like she was hoping for something more than a friendship between the two of them… even if that’s exactly what she did want.  While Mor had been able to get her to admit that she had feelings for Rhys, she was still nowhere near ready to open up to him about said feelings.  Not yet, anyways.  Feyre cringed at the prospect of having that particular conversation with him.  No, she definitely wasn’t ready for that.  Not now.  Maybe not ever.

Despite her nerves, she smiled broadly as she gazed at her reflection.  The dress really was astounding!  The front of the dress was deceptively plain.  It was a shade of blue so dark that it almost appeared black.  Light reflected off of the tiny, opalescent crystals every time she moved, resembling a star filled night sky.  The asymmetrical neckline accentuated her cleavage nicely.  The feature that made the dress so exceptional though, was that it was backless.  It was cut low… dangerously low in the back.  She would definitely need to be very careful this evening.  The last thing she needed was to show off her bare ass to Rhys’s entire family.

“Darling? Are you ready?  We need to get going soon.” Rhys’s voice sounded from just outside the door.

“I’ll be right out,” she hollered, giving her reflection a final once-over. Mor had taken pity on her earlier that afternoon.  After several texts and one panicked phone call, Mor had agreed to come over and help Feyre put her hair up into an elegant updo.  Feyre owed her now.  Big time.  She would have to find a way to pay back Mor’s kindness… somehow.

Squaring her shoulders, she sauntered out of her room.  Rhys stared as her, wide eyed, as she closed the distance between them.   

“Feyre Darling, you look extraordinarily beautiful,” he purred, unabashedly looking her up and down.  She turned scarlet under his brazen stare.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Rhyses,” she said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear.  She tried, and failed, to keep her traitorous eyes under control.  Seemingly of their own volition, her grey-blue eyes roamed the length of his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

“See something you like, Darling?” he purred.  Her eyes flew up to meet his. Feyre narrowed her eyes at him as he gave her a wolfish grin.  Oh, that’s how he was going to be?  Well, two could play that game.  She smirked as she sashayed past him, hips swishing sinfully.  She paused a few feet away, making sure that the back of her dress was fully displayed.  She turned her head, peering over her shoulder at him with a wicked grin on her face.

Rhys’s eyes roved over her body, lingering on her backside.  Her mouth went dry as his gaze devoured her.

Mustering all the bravado she could manage, she smirked, “See something you like?”  Feyre bit her bottom lip as he prowled over to her with a hungry gleam in his eye.

“As a matter of fact, I happen to like that dress very much, Feyre Darling,” Rhys said in a low voice.  He leaned forward and pressed a feather light kiss to her cheek.  Feyre was extremely aware of just how close his lips were to the corner of her mouth.  One inch.

“Prick,” she huffed, clenching her thighs together.

Rhys held out his arm and purred, “Shall we?”

***

Feyre stood before the entrance, wide eyed.  Flashes of the last dinner party she had attended ran through her mind.  How the she-devils had insulted her.  How Tamlin had broken his promise and left her all alone.  And of course, the ill-fated proposal.  Her body trembled as she gaped up at the building.

Rhys’s hold on her hand tightened as he said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of.  We’ll be at a table with Mor, Andy, Az, Amren, and Dilys. No one else. You won’t have to talk to another person in that room unless you want to.”  Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.  Rhys grasped her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“Say the word, Darling, and we leave.  No questions asked.  And don’t worry, I’ll be with you the entire time.”  Feyre had heard the same thing from Tamlin all those months ago.  She had known he wasn’t going to keep that promise.  Feyre has hoped… no, not hoped.  Pretended.  She had pretended that Tamlin would keep that promise.  Now, looking into Rhys’s violet eyes, Feyre knew deep down that he would spend the entire evening at her side if she asked.  She took a deep breath and nodded in agreement.

She threw back her shoulders and walked through the door, nearly colliding with another person who was standing just inside of the doorway.  

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she squeaked.  Nice, Feyre.  Great way to make a first impression!  

“My fault entirely,” the stranger said as he began to turn around.  Feyre sucked in a sharp breath as one russet eye and one metal eye met her gaze.

Lucien Vanserra.

Shit.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	30. Chapter 30

“Feyre! I was hoping I’d get a chance to see you sometime soon, but I wasn’t expecting to see you here tonight,” he said.  Feyre winced as Lucien smiled broadly at them.  Rhys glanced at her through the corners of his eyes, no doubt aware of her sudden discomfort.

Jutting his hand out in Lucian’s direction, he said, “Lucien, it’s good to see you again.” Wait? Rhys knew Lucien?  How was that possible?  What in the bottomless depths of the Cauldron had she gotten herself into now?  She watched silently as they shook hands.    

“Good to see you too, Rhysand.”

“Please, call me Rhys.”  He gave Lucien a wary look and asked, “I wasn’t aware that you knew Feyre Darling.”

Lucien’s eyebrows flew up as he snorted, “Feyre Darling?  That’s new.  It suits you though, Fey.”

“What are you doing here, Luci?” Feyre asked hesitantly, biting her bottom lip.  Her stomach twisted painfully as she gawked at the man whom she had once considered a friend.  He looked exactly the same as he had the last time she had seen him, minus the smirk on his face.  The image of Lucien slamming the door behind him in disgust floated to the forefront of her mind.  Rhys draped his arm casually around her shoulder.  To anyone else, the gesture would have seemed territorial.  Not to her, though. She saw it for what it was- Rhys’s way of letting her know he was there for her, if she needed him.  Feyre was grateful for his support.  She would need it if she were going to survive this conversation.    

Lucien rubbed the back of his neck and said sheepishly, “My boyfriend Andras works here.  He’s the head of the security department.”

“Oh,” she murmured.  That explains how Rhys and he were acquainted.

“Andras gets an invitation to this Christmas shindig each year.” Lucien rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he said, “He insisted I come with him this tonight, even though he knows how much I hate wearing this blasted monkey suit.”  He yanked on the lapels of his jacket and sighed dramatically.

Feyre blurted out, “Liar!  You jump at every single opportunity to get dressed up.”

Lucien chuckled, “Touché.” Feyre smiled tentatively at him.  Maybe, just maybe…

“So, how do you two know each other?” Rhys asked, glancing between Feyre and Lucien.  Shit.

Lucien’s expression hardened as he ground out, “Tamlin and I grew up together.  He was my best friend for years.”  Feyre’s cheeks burned with shame as her gaze dropped to the ground in front of her.

“How unfortunate for you.  I take it that you are no longer friends with him,” Rhys snapped, anger lacing his every word.  He pulled her in closer to him, tucking her snuggly under his arm.  Feyre wrapped her arm around his waist and clung to him, feeling as though she would collapse without his support.

Lucien laughed bitterly, “Very astute of you, Rhys.  No, I am no longer friends with Tamlin.  He made it very clear that he wanted nothing to do with me.”  Feyre slowly lifted her head and met his gaze.

Steeling her nerves she said quietly, “I’m so sorry Lucien.  I should have…” He threw his hand out to stop her from continuing.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Fey.  Tamlin didn’t leave you much of a choice.” She wished that were true.  He had every reason to hate her.  He should hate her.  Hell, she hated herself.

Her voice wobbled slightly as she said, “I should have… I don’t know.  Said something to him.  I shouldn’t have cut you out of my life like that.  I’m so sorry, Luci.” Tears began to fall down her face in earnest.

“Come here,” Lucien said, opening his arms widely.  Feyre launched herself into his awaiting embrace.  He held her tightly as she sobbed onto his chest, rubbing soothing strokes up and down her bare back.  

“I missed you,” she whispered, after the tears finally stopped falling.

“I missed you too, Feyfey,” Lucien said.  She grinned up at him as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Anyone mind filling me in?” Rhys drawled, clearly annoyed at being left in the dark.  Feyre stepped out of Lucien’s embrace.  She prowled over to Rhys, viciously pinching him on his side.

“Prick,” she hissed, scowling deeply.  

Lucien snorted, “Of course you two would end up together.  He’s just as sarcastic as you are.”

“We’re not together.  We’re just friends,” she stammered, heat creeping up her cheeks.

Lucien gave her a disbelieving look as he huffed, “Sure. Whatever you say, Fey.”

Feyre smacked his shoulder playfully and giggled, “You’re insufferable, Luci!”

“I’m still waiting for an explanation,” Rhys snapped, crossing has arms over his chest.      

Feyre narrowed her eyes.  Why was he acting like this?  This was a far cry from the usual snarky banter she had become accustomed to.  Rhys slid his hands into his pockets and glowered openly at Lucien, his whole body tense.  Wait… was he… was Rhys jealous?  Her eyes widened as she stared at him.  Was it possible he had feelings for her?  Sure he was a shameless flirt, but she had always assumed he was just teasing her, not that he had any real feelings for her.  Feyre felt as though her world had just been turned upside down.  She shook her head slightly, as though to clear it, and turned her attention back to the conversation.  She would have to figure out what this meant later on.  Now, she needed to focus on her friend.    

Lucien sighed heavily, “About a year ago, I came out as being bisexual.  Tamlin and Feyre were the first people I told. As you can imagine, he was less than supportive about it.” That was putting it mildly.  Tamlin had basically thrown Lucien out of his house.    

Feyre clenched her hands into fists and hissed, “He was such an ass, Lucien.  You didn’t deserve that.  I should have broken up with him then and there.”

“Feyre, would you please stop apologizing?  I don’t blame you.  I never have.”  Feyre felt a jagged little piece of her heart begin to mend at his words.  Of all the regrets she had from her relationship with Tamlin, cutting Lucien out of her life was by far the biggest.

“Tamlin made you choose between him and Lucien, didn’t he?” Rhys asked, clenching his jaw tightly.  She nodded grimly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck?” Rhys muttered.

“Great guy, huh?” Lucien said wryly, shaking his head slightly.

Feyre clucked her tongue, “There are a few things that I could say about him.  Being ‘a great guy’ is not one of them.”

“I’m just glad that you called it off with him when you did.  You were always too good for him, Fey.”

“I know,” she said nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.  Both Lucien and Rhys tipped their head back and roared with laughter. “

Lucien, there you are,” a voice called out.  Andras’s voice, judging by the way Lucien’s face lit up.  Feyre thanked the Cauldron that Lucien had found someone who could make him this happy.    

Lucien pivoted his body, and said, “I’ll be right there, Andras.”  He turned back around to face her before saying, “I’d like to introduce you to him tonight, if that would be alright.”

Feyre grinned broadly, “I’d love to meet him.” She winked mischievously, saying, “He’s cute, Luci!”  

Lucien groaned, “Cauldron help me! You two are going to be thick as thieves, aren’t you?”

Feyre smirked “Damn straight we are.”

Lucien jerked his head in his boyfriend’s direction, “I better get going.  See you inside.” Feyre smiled, nodding her head in agreement.  She watched in silence as Lucien turned on his heels and walked away.  After everything that had happened, he had forgiven her.  Maybe it was time for her to forgive herself.

“Feyre Darling, are you okay?” Rhys asked, his face lined with concern.

She wrapped her arms around herself and said, “I’m fine.  I just need a minute.”  Rhys draped his arm across her shoulders and placed a kiss upon he brow.  She snuggled further into him, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.  They stood like that for a time, with her head resting on his chest.  She shivered as he ran a hand up and down her spine.  Heat began to pool in her belly.  She lifted her head just enough to peer up at him.  

“Rhys?”His violet eyes met hers.  

They burned with an intensity she didn’t understand as he said, “Feyre Darling?”  

“Thank you.  For always being there for me when I need you.”

“Anytime Darling.”

Feyre could have sworn his eyes flickered down to her mouth briefly. She became distinctly aware of how close she was to him, so close they were sharing breath.  Her heart was beating so fast, she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.  Like a moth drawn to a flame, her gaze traveled down to his lips.  Wanting to erase the distance between them, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.  She felt him stiffen in her arms.  Her eyes flew open and searched his face.  His eyes were wide open in shock.  He hadn’t kissed her back. He didn’t have feelings for her after all.  The realization hit her like a physical blow.  Shit! What had she done? She jerked back, stepping out of his embrace.

She held her hands out apologetically and stammered, “I’m so sorry, Rhys.  I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Feyre whirled around and began running.  She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she just knew she had to get away.  She thought she heard Rhys calling after her, but she kept going.  She couldn’t face him after that.  She had kissed him, and he hadn’t kissed her back.  She had, for one tiny moment, thought he had felt the same way about her.  She had hoped he felt the same, anyways.  As it turned out, she couldn’t have been more wrong.  As tears began to pool in her eyes, she laughed mirthlessly.  It was so typical!  The very person, who had helped heal her heart in so many ways, was now the one person responsible for breaking it.             ****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	31. Chapter 31

As Feyre ran down the sidewalk, she paid little attention to where she was going.  She nearly collided with a middle-aged man as she tore down the street.  None of that mattered to her though.  The only thing she could focus on was her rising mortification.  How had things gone so wrong?  Why had she tried to kiss him?  Cauldron, she was such an idiot! She had just ruined everything!! How could she possibly ever face him again?  She had been so sure that he had felt something for her.  Obviously not, seeing how he had reacted when she kissed him.  The thought of seeing him every single day, seeing the pity in his eyes, had her hissing in frustration.  Maybe she should ask Mor if she could move in with her...

Feyre stumbled in her precariously high heels, nearly falling face first onto the sidewalk.  Swearing ferociously, she skidded to a stop.  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she took in her surroundings.  Her eyes widened as the realization of her current predicament struck her.  She was utterly and completely lost! She bit her lower lip harshly, willing herself not to breakdown in the middle of the crowded street.

Feyre wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath.  Focus Feyre!  The party was at his father’s company, which wasn’t far from the Plaza.  She should be able to get a cab from there and get back to her… and get back to Rhys’s place.  Feyre rummaged through her purse. She should have enough money for a hotel for the evening.  Maybe she should just move back home with her father.  She cringed at the thought as she spun in a circle, attempting to regain her bearings.

“FEYRE!” Rhys yelled.  SHIT!  She whirled around, facing the direction his voice was coming from.  Her face blanched as she watched him running up the sidewalk towards her.  She glanced around, desperately looking for a place to hide.  Feyre didn’t think her heart could handle hearing him saying he didn’t want her.  She turned on her heel and began running in earnest.  Damn these shoes!  Her lip pulled back in a snarl as she slowed down long enough to rip them off her feet.

“FEYRE! WAIT! PLEASE!” he hollered, his words laced with desperation.  Feyre hesitated, slowing her pace slightly.  Really, there was nowhere for her to go.  She had no hope of out running him, not barefoot at least.  Her jaw tightened as she halted her movements.  The sound of his pounding footsteps grew closer, though she refused to turn around and face him.

“Feyre, thank the Cauldron!” he panted, seemingly out of breath from chasing her.

“Can we please not do this, Rhys?”

“Just let me explain. Please.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Feyre Archeron. Turn around and look at me. Please.” he pleaded.  She slowly pivoted around to face him, reluctantly meeting his piercing gaze.  

Her lower lip quivered as she said, “There’s nothing to say, Rhysand.  I kissed you and you didn’t kiss me back.”

He ran a hand roughly through his hair and said, “Shit, Feyre.  I’m so sorry.  Would you please let me explain myself?”

She laughed bitterly, “I really don’t want to listen to you explaining how you don’t have any romantic interest in me and that you hope we can still be friends.”  Rhys’s mouth dropped open as he stared at her in disbelief.

“You’re kidding me, right?” he snorted.

Feyre narrowed her brows and hissed, “Don’t you dare make fun of me, Rhysand Nos.”  Rhys tipped his head back and began roaring with laughter.

“You fucking prick,” she hissed venomously as she began to stalk off.  Rhys reached out and gently took hold of her elbow.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he chuckled.

She yanked her arm out of his grasp and snarled, “Know what?  That I’m a fucking joke to you? Yeah, I know that now. Thank you for that.”

He threw his hands in the air in exasperation and said, “You are not a fucking joke to me.  By the Cauldron, Feyre… I’ve been in love with you since I first day I met you.”  Feyre stared at him wide-eyed, trying to make sense of his words.

“What?” she stammered. She must have heard him wrong.  There’s no way he just said that he loved her.  How could he?  He wouldn’t have reacted to her kiss that way if he actually had any feelings for her.  Rhys stepped forward and took her hands into his.

“Feyre Archeron, I am so stupid in love with you that I can’t think straight half the time I’m around you.”

“But you didn’t kiss me back,” she said hoarsely, tears falling from her eyes.  Rhys cupped her face with his hands and leaned forward, kissing the tip of her nose.  The way he was looking at her and the tenderness he showed while holding her… did he truly feel that way?

“Honestly, I panicked.”

“You panicked?” she said slowly, giving him a half smile.

“I have wanted to kiss you since you accused me of stealing your sketches at the book signing.  When you kissed me, I was so caught off guard that I just… froze.” He said as he wrapped his arms around her.

“But you like me?” she asked hesitantly, still not quite believing his words.

“Yes, Feyre Darling. Very much,” he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  He learned forward, resting his forehead against hers.

“Oh.”

Rhys pulled back slightly and purred, “Can we try that kiss again?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and smirked, “I don’t know.  You weren’t very good at it the first time I tried.”

Rhys surged forward, capturing her lips with his.  She opened her mouth to him, deepening the kiss.  The first brush of his tongue against hers had her moaning into his mouth.  Rhys grasped her hips, tugging her impossibly closer to him. It wasn’t nearly close enough though.  She craved the feeling of his skin against hers.  Feyre grasped his hair and tugged slightly on the ends.  She ground her hips against his; desperate to relieve the ache that was growing between her thighs.  Rhys’s answering growl sent shivers down her body.  He pulled back, breaking the kiss.  They were both breathing heavily as they clung to one another.

“As much as I would like to continue this Darling, we are in the middle of the sidewalk,” he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“There’s an alley down that way,” she said, raising her eyebrows mischievously.

He nuzzled her neck and said, “I’ve waited this long, Feyre Darling.  I can wait until we get home.” She could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into her hip.  She ground against his length, causing him to hiss at the contact.

“Why wait?” she said, her voice edged with desire.

“You are going to be the death of me,” he said, nipping her earlobe lightly.

Feyre groaned, “I’m going to be the death of you? I think you mean the other way around. You’re the one teasing me.  You’re sure you don’t want to go into the alley?”

He smirked, “I don’t want to have an audience when I make you moan, Feyre.”  She huffed a laugh and leaned her head on his chest.

“You’re such a nerd.” 

“You love it.”  They stood in silence for a moment, content with just holding one another.    

“Rhys?”

“Yes, Feyre Darling?” he said as he pressed another kiss to her brow.  It seemed as though once he started to kiss her, he was unable to stop.

“You love me?” she whispered.

His arms tightened around her slightly as he said, “ I do.”

“Good, because I think I might love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this part! Please let me know what you thought! I love reading your comments and feedback!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	32. Chapter 32

Feyre’s thoughts whirled about as she attempted in vain to process the most recent events of the evening.  She paid attention to very little on the walk back, apart from the feel of Rhys’s hand in hers.  They just… fit together so perfectly, more so than she ever had fit with anyone else, even Tamlin.  Thoughts of her ex had once consumed her every waking moment.  Every time she had considered a relationship with Rhys, a gut-wrenching feeling of guilt wracked her so thoroughly she nearly collapsed.  No longer.  Mor was right- she deserved to be happy.  A smile spread across her face as she snuck a glance at a huge contributor to her current state of happiness.  Mere moments ago, Rhys had confessed that he loved her.  She knew deep down in her bones that he had been telling the truth.  Though she had been hesitant to admit it at first, her feelings for him had been growing too, ever since that first day they met.  She chuckled at the memory of their first encounter.  She marveled at how much things had changed for her since then. **  
**

As they drew near their destination, she pulled him to a stop.    

He raised a brow at her and smirked, “Too late to back out now, Feyre Darling.”  

She gazed up at Rhys, biting her lip seductively, and murmured, “Are you sure we have to go up to this party?”  He leaned towards her with a wolfish grin on his face.  The hand that had hanging casually at his side began to make a lazy trail down the column of her back.

His breath caressed the too warm skin of her cheek as he whispered, “Patience, Feyre Darling.”

“Prick,” she sighed dramatically, running a hand down the front of her dress, a poor attempt to hide just how flustered she was, how desperately she wanted him right then and there.

“Mor and Dilys would skin me alive if you miss this party because I am busy ravishing you,” he purred, nipping her ear lightly.  Her breath hitched slightly.  Damn him!  He knew exactly what he was doing to her!  His eyes burned with desire; unspoken thoughts and promises hung heavy in the air between them as his gaze raked over her body. Feyre shivered as he toyed with the hem of her dress, his fingers daring to dip below the material, dangerously close to her backside.

“Can’t we just go home?” she asked in a sultry voice, one in which she barely recognized.

Rhys ran a hand though his hair and moaned, “Cauldron Feyre!  You’re going to be the death of me.”

She smirked, “You started it.  I’m just returning the favor.”

His lust-addled expression transformed to one filled with what could only be described as love as he said, “I love when you call it your home.”

Feyre’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she drawled, “So, you kind of like me, huh?”

He kissed her forehead gently, reverently, before saying, “No, I love you.”  Feyre’s eyes were lined with silver as she threw her arms around his neck.  They stood like that for a moment, content with simply being in each other’s arms.

Feyre snorted, “You know Dily is going to give us hell, right?”

Rhys groaned, “She’s going to be completely insufferable.”  He paused, a wicked look crossing his face.

“What are you plotting, Rhyses?” she asked, eyes narrowing slightly.”  He rested his hands on her hips, tugging her against him.

“I think that maybe you were right. We should just go home after all.”

Feyre stepped out of his embrace, clucking her tongue loudly, “Ohhhhh no! That will never do! We couldn’t possibly skip the party!  You said so yourself, Rhyses.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and smirked, “Cruel, beautiful woman.”  He offered his arm to her and said, “Fine.  Let’s go give my family something to talk about.”

***

Feyre cringed slightly, pressing herself even closer to Rhys’s side, as they entered the enormous ballroom.  This was Rhys’s family, not Tamlin’s.  Her friends were here.  She took a deep breath and willed herself to calm down.

Rhys squeezed her hand and said, “I’m not letting go of your hand tonight, so you had better get used to doing things one handed.”

She snorted, “Are you planning on following me into the bathroom as well?”

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “I’m sure we could find something to do in there.”  Despite her nerves, Feyre couldn’t help but to laugh.

“You’re impossible,” she chuckled.

“You’re perfect,” he said, lifting both of their hands and brushing a kiss along her knuckles.  Once again, she marveled at how he always seemed to know exactly what she was feeling.  If she didn’t know better, she would swear he could read minds.

“Rhys! There you are! I was starting to get worried.”  Feyre turned her head towards the sound of the voice.

“You worry too much.  Better be careful.  You don’t want to end up with unsightly wrinkles,” Rhys said, his face bright with mischief.  The woman, whom she recognized from photos hanging in the apartment, huffed loudly and smacked him lightly on the shoulder.  She had the exact same dark hair and skin coloring as Rhys, but her eyes were emerald green, like Dilys’s.  While her black dress was gorgeous, and obviously expensive, it lacked the ostentatious flare that Tamlin’s mother had seemed to love.

“Rhysand! Is that any way to behave on Christmas Eve?” she chided, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward as she pulled him into an embrace.  Rhys returned the hug, albeit with only one arm, still determined to not let go of her hand.  If his mother found it strange, she said nothing about it.

He smiled brightly as his mother stepped out of his embrace and said, “Mom, I want to introduce you to Feyre.  Feyre this is my mother, Catrin.”

Feyre stuck out her hand nervously and stammered, “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Nos.”  Brushing Feyre’s hand aside dismissively, Catrin enveloped her into a giant hug.

As she stepped back, she gave a dazzling smile and said, “Please, call me Catrin.  I’ve heard so much about you, Feyre! I am so glad you could make it tonight.  Rhys hasn’t been able to talk about anything, or anyone else for that matter, since the day he met you.”

“Oh, really?” Feyre drawled, quirking a brow at Rhys.  She was delighted to see his cheeks turn a deep shade of red.

He ran a hand down his face and hissed, “Mom!  Please don’t embarrass me!”  

Catrin draped her arm over Feyre’s shoulders and smirked at her son, “Am I embarrassing you, Rhysand?  Poor soul.  Feyre, what do you think?  Will he die a painful death in shame?”  Feyre bit her bottom lip, trying hard not to laugh.

She managed to get out, “Oh, yes.  Look how red he is!” She and Catrin shared a quick look before they both burst out laughing.

Rhys sighed dramatically, placing his hand on his chest, “Tossed aside for another.  By my own family.  That’s cold.”

“Well, she’s certainly easier on the eyes than you are,” a distinctively male voice said, catching Feyre off guard.  She felt heat creep up her neck and along her cheeks.

Rhys grinned at the approaching male, “That she is.”

“Dad, meet Feyre.  Feyre, this is my father, Aeron.”  For the second time in as many minutes, Feyre was once again being pulled into a hug.  So this is where Rhys, Dily, and Mor got their proclivity for hugging.  She smiled shyly at Rhys’s father as he released her.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Feyre said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Feyre,” he said with a smile.  Feyre was struck by the resemblance between Rhys and his father.

Aeron gave Rhys a lopsided smile and said, “I’m glad to see that your girlfriend is in fact real.  I was starting to think that you made her up.”  Feyre turned scarlet as she gaped, open mouthed, at him.

“I hate you both,” Rhys moaned, covering his face with his hand.

“Why would you think that he made up a girlfriend?” Feyre asked, genuinely curious, once her shock wore off.

“Well, Rhys tends to be quite secretive about his relationships.  He’s never even introduced us to any of his girlfriends.  So, when he started talking about you nonstop, I figured it was a ploy to get his mother off his back,” Aeron explained.

“Hey!” both Rhys and his mother hissed simultaneously.

Aeron threw up his hands up in surrender, though his smirk never left his face.  

“By the Cauldron!” Rhys groaned.  He glared viciously at his parents as he groaned, “Let’s go find Mor before they can embarrass me even further.”

His mother huffed, “Just wait until she comes over for dinner. I can’t wait to show her your baby pictures!” Feyre flashed them both a grin before Rhys pulled her away, muttering under his breath.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre Darling,” he ground out.

Feeling utterly perplexed, she asked, “For what?”

Motioning in the direction they had come from, he moaned, “For my parents being so…”

“Rhys, there’s no reason to apologize.  Your parents are amazing.”

“Really? They didn’t embarrass you too much?” he asked, the shock apparent on his face.

Feyre huffed, “Of course not.”   Rhys sighed, visibly relieved.

“Oh, thank the Cauldron.”

Feyre paused and gave him an assessing look and said, “I do have a question, though.”

“What?” he asked warily.

She smirked at him, placing her free hand on her hip, “Girlfriend?”

He turned an impressive shade of read as he stammered, “Well… I mean… we don’t have to go there yet… if you’re not comfortable with it.  Whatever you want.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  Feyre bit her bottom lip.  How did he not know how adorable he was?

“Girlfriend.  I like the sound of that,” she said, glancing down nervously.  Ever so gently, he grasped her chin and tilted her head up slightly.

“Me too,” he said, his eyes bright with happiness.  Feyre ran her hands through his hair, pulling him closer to her.  She ran her tongue along Rhys’s bottom lip, eliciting a small groan from him.  He surged forward, capturing her lip with his.  She made to deepen the kiss when a familiar squeal had her jumping back.

“I KNEW IT!” Dily hollered, practically jumping up and down with joy.  Both Feyre and Rhys turned bright red.

“Fuck.  Here we go,” he moaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Things have been so crazy lately! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this update!! Let me know what you think!! :D
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	33. Chapter 33

Feyre cursed inwardly as she stared at Dilys, her wide eyes betraying the panic she was suddenly feeling.  Shit. She knew that they were going to have to tell Mor and everyone else sooner or later, but her and Rhys being together… it was all so new.  Feyre had barely had enough time to process the events of the evening herself. After all, she had only learned of Rhys’s feelings for her less than an hour ago.  What if things didn’t work out between them? Would Dily, Mor, or even Az still want to be friends with her after that? Not likely. They would most likely take his side and then she would lose the only friends she had.  Shit. Maybe starting a relationship with Rhys right now wasn’t such good idea. She fidgeted nervously as her mind raced, each thought significantly worse than the one before.

She had to end things with Rhys.  Tonight. Before anything could go wrong and destroy the strange little family she had found herself a part of.  Her chest twisted painfully at the thought as her eyes traveled down to her hand, which was still entwined with his.  Despair coursed through her as she said a silent prayer to the Mother. She hoped that someday Rhys would be able to forgive her for what she was about to do.

“Dily, can you not freak out and embarrass us right now?” Rhys ground out.  Despite the situation, Feyre was honestly impressed that Dily was able to jump and flail about, considering the heels she was wearing.

“By the Cauldron!  I knew it! How long have you been seeing each other?”  Dily demanded. Feyre yanked her hand out of Rhys’s grasp and pointed an accusing finger in his direction.

“We are most certainly not together.  This idiot said that there was mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.”  Feyre ignored the confused expression on his face as she plowed forward, sealing both of their fates in the process.  “I thought he was going to kiss my cheek, but no. Rhyses just got a little over excited.”

Dily crossed her arms and huffed, “That’s not what it looked like to me, Feyre. It’s no big deal.  You don’t need to lie about it.”

Feyre barked out a mirthless, empty laugh, “Dily, you have got to give up on this obsession of yours.  Quit trying to push the two of us together. It’s never going to happen”

Dily narrowed her eyes and spat out, “Excuse me?”  Feyre risked a glance in Rhys’s direction, a decision she immediately regretted.  The hurt that shown in his eyes nearly shredded what little was left of her resolve.

She flung back her shoulders and snapped, “I’m just tired of everyone trying to force us together.  It’s never going to happen. Rhys and I will never be together. The sooner you get that through your head Dily, the better off we’ll all be.”

“This is such bullshit! What the hell is the matter with you, Fey?  Why are you acting like this?”

She shrugged her shoulders with a nonchalance she certainly didn’t feel at the moment as she said, “I’m just trying to be honest with you.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” Feyre fought back her tears as she turned around and began walking away. It took all of the strength she possessed to not turn around and begin begging for their forgiveness.  For the second time that evening, she was running away. This time, she realized, Rhys would not be coming after her.

*******

It had to be done.  It’s for the best. Feyre repeated those lines over and over to herself as tears trickled down her cheeks.  Rhys probably hated her right now. He had every right to, in all honesty. She turned away from the mirror, disgusted by what she saw in her reflection.  Feyre slumped down on the bench and buried her face in her hands. What a mess! How in the name of the Cauldron was she going to get through the rest of the night?  Feyre’s body went ridged as the clacking of heels announced the presence of another. Feyre cursed under her breath, angry with herself for not locking the bathroom door behind her.

A familiar voice asked, “Feyre?”

She reluctantly lifted her head from her hands and slowly met Mor’s penetrating gaze.

“Mind telling me what the hell is going on?”  Mor hissed, placing a hand on her hip.

“Nothing,” she said in a flat voice as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“Nothing? Nothing? So that’s why you’re in the bathroom crying and Rhys looks like he just got kicked in the balls?” Mor asked incredulously.

She took a shuddering breath and said, “I made a mistake.  I thought for a moment that... never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore.”  Mor gave Feyre an assessing look as she sat on the bench beside her.

“Tell me what’s going on.”  

Feyre leaned her head back against the wall, eyed fixated on the ceiling above.  Sighing heavily, she began retelling the events of the evening. Mor sat quietly throughout, never once interrupting her.  By the time she finished, Feyre felt as though a weight had been lifted from her.

Mor arched a brow and said, “I love you Fey, but that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.  You and Rhys are perfect for each other. He’s so in love with you, I’m surprised he hasn’t proposed yet.”  She took ahold of Feyre’s hand before continuing, “But no matter what happens, I’ll always have your back.”

“I don’t know if I should thank you, or be insulted,” Feyre huffed.

Mor grinned, “It’s all part of the charm!  Now, let’s go find my idiot of a cousin and get the two of you back together.”

*******

It had taken awhile, but Feyre had finally found Rhys on a tiny, private balcony overlooking the river.  Though she was sure he could her tentative footsteps, he made no indication one way or another.  She bit her bottom lip roughly as she leaned against the railing next to him.

“Rhys, I…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said roughly, refusing to look at her.

“Please, just let me explain,” she begged.

Feyre hadn’t realized how close they were standing until he turned his head towards her.  She was momentarily distracted by the closeness of him.    

“I’m listening,” he said.  

“Honestly… I panicked.”

“You panicked,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching up slightly.  Encouraged by his response, she took his hands in hers.

“It happens to the best of us. Or, so I’ve heard,” she teased lightly.  Rhys began tracing small circles on her palm.  Her attention narrowed, focusing solely on the sensation of his hands on her skin.  He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead.  Feyre wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest, breathing in the comforting scent that was distinctly Rhys.

“I love you,” he said, his breath tickling the shell of her ear.

She looked up at him with a mischievous grin and said, “I know.  Mor is surprised that you haven’t proposed yet.”

“I’m not going to propose to you Feyre Darling,” he said, his eyes gleaming.

Feyre narrowed her eyes and asked, “And why is that?” Did that mean he couldn’t imagine a future with her? Did that mean he didn’t want to marry her?

“Because Feyre Darling, I would propose to you right here and now if I didn’t think it would scare you away.  I don’t want to push you too far too fast.  So, I decided that I’m not going to propose to you.”

“Ever?” She hated how her voice broke on that one word.  She hated how insecure she felt.  Rhys began peppering kisses along her jawline, soothing her jagged nerves slightly.

“No. Not ever.  I have your ring already.  You’ll just need to tell me whenever you’re ready for it.”

“Rather presumptuous of you, don’t you think?” she scoffed.

“What?”

“That I’ll propose to you.  We haven’t even been on a proper date.”  

“I bet you will,” Rhys smirked.

“A bet, huh?  You’re on.  What are you willing to wager?”

With a glint in his eyes she’d never seen before, he replied, “My heart.”  She surged forward, kissing him deeply.  She put all of the thoughts and emotions she wasn’t able to express into that one kiss.  When they finally broke apart, they were both panting heavily.

“So Feyre Darling, are we officially dating now? I have to ask, just to be sure.  We wouldn’t want anymore mistletoe mishaps,” he purred.  Feyre swatted at him halfheartedly.

She sighed, “Come on. I need to go talk to Dily.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little update! I’m sorry it took me so long to post. Life has been sooo crazy!!! I only have 8 more school days to go and then I’m free! I’ve been doing some planning on my next fic which will feature Dilys and decided to make some changes to this part. It turned out a little differently than expected, so I hope you like it. Originally Cassian had come to the party and drama ensued. Looking back, it made more sense not to have him there, so I’m saving the Cass drama for the new fic, which I'll start posting sometime this summer. Thank you all for your continued support of this fic!! Please leave me comments! Thanks ya’ll! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr as illyrianbeauty


	34. Chapter 34

Feyre grasped Rhys's hand tightly as they approached the table. If her vice like grip was painful, he gave no indication. She was grateful for his unwavering support, which if she were being honest, was the only thing keeping her from completely falling to pieces at the moment. Though the evening had scarcely gotten underway, it had already been an emotional roller-coaster. Her lower lip trembled slightly as she took in the tumultuous expression on Dily's face. Shit. As well-intentioned as Feyre's actions had been, things had quickly spiraled out of control, with Dilys getting hurt in the process. Apologizing to Rhys's sister was not going to be fun, given her proclivity towards the dramatics, a trait which just so happened to run in the family.

"Calm down, Feyre Darling. Dilys will forgive you," Rhys said, nudging her side gently with his elbow.

She cast a dubious look in his direction and groaned, "I'm not so sure about that."

"Just grovel a little. Offer to take her to the bookstore. That usually works for me," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Gritting her teeth, Feyre continued forward, saying a silent prayer to the Cauldron that that damage done to their friendship hadn't been irreparable.

"Pickles, can we talk?" she asked quietly, though she was certain everyone seated at the table had been able to hear her, considering that all conversation had ceased immediately upon their arrival.

Dily flashed her a saccharine smile and said, "Go ahead, Feyre. We're listening." Feyre bit her lower lip roughly, stifling the groan that threatened to escape. She had hoped to speak to Dily in private, but it seemed as though her friend wanted a public apology.

She glanced surreptitiously around the table, heat creeping up her neck and cheeks. Thank the Cauldron half the seats remained unoccupied. Az sat to the right of Dily, his expression indicating that he would much rather be somewhere else. She didn't blame him. To Dily's left sat Mor, who gazed at Feyre with a blank expression upon her face. Feyre had always been envious of those who could hide their emotions, her own facial expressions had always been an open book, often to her detriment. Sitting beside Mor was the only individual at the table whom Feyre did not know, though it was safe to assume it was Mor's date, Andromache.

"Dily, I'm sorry for how I behaved earlier. It was inexcusable. Please forgive me," Feyre implored. Dilys drummed her fingers on the table, her piercing gaze fixated on Feyre's hand, which was still entwined with Rhys's.

"So, are you dating my brother or not?" she drawled, brows arching dramatically as her gaze pinned Feyre in place.

"Yes, Rhys and I are together now," Feyre said, the corners of her mouth twitching up ever so slightly. Dily spun her head in Az's direction, holding out a hand expectantly.

"Pay up, Az" Dily snorted, tilting her head to the side. Feyre watched, downright flabbergasted, as Az pulled out a crisp, twenty-dollar bill from his pocket and placed it in Dily's awaiting hand.

"The hell?" Feyre asked, more to herself than to anyone else.

Dilys smirked, "Az and I had a bet going about when you two would finally admit your feelings for each other."

"I hate you both," Rhys moaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So... you're not upset?" Feyre asked, rather incredulously. 

Dily shrugged and said, "Mor explained everything while you two were out on the balcony. I wouldn't say you're completely forgiven." Dily snorted, "That was definitely one of the worst plans ever created in the history of Prythian, but we're good." Feyre surged forward, enveloping Dily in a hug giant.

Eventually Feyre stepped out of the embrace and said, "Pickles, I really am sorry. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, just let me know."

Dily grinned deviously, "Oh trust me, I will."

"You're going to regret saying that, Fey!" Mor snorted, eyes rolling in amusement.

***

Feyre set her silverware on the plate in front of her, pushing it away and groaning, "If I eat one more bite, you're going to have to roll me out of here."

Mor leaned back in her seat, rubbing small circles on her stomach and said, "I'm way too full to just to sit here. Why don't we go to that new club down the street? What do you think Andy?"

"Sure, why not. I'd love to go dancing with you," Andromache said, a sultry smile appearing on her face. Mor shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. Feyre had never seen Mor act like this, it was truly wonderful to see her friend so utterly smitten.

"Az, lovebirds, what do you say? Care to join us?" Mor asked, a grin spread across her face. Feyre had never enjoyed going to nightclubs, finding them too noisy and somewhat overwhelming.

She glanced at Rhys, and asked reluctantly, "Do you want to go dancing?" Perhaps it was the way she had said the word dancing, as though it were a foul curse word, or perhaps he just knew her well.

Regardless of the reason, he shook his head and said, "I think we're going to stay here. Maybe next time." Mor turned her pleading eyes towards Az, who heaved a long-suffering sigh.

"Fine, I'm in," he muttered.

"No! You can't all leave," Dily shrieked, though her eyes were focused solely on Az.

"So, Andromache, I must ask you before Mor whisks you away for the rest of the evening. What exactly are your intentions towards my dear cousin?" Rhys asked, a wicked glint in his eyes. All thoughts of Dily's objections were long forgotten as Feyre gaped openly at Rhys.

"What the hell?" Mor squawked, nearly spitting out her wine in the process. Andromache assessed Rhys, a lopsided smile forming on her face.

She leaned over, wrapped an arm around Feyre's shoulders and drawled, "I could ask you the same about my new friend here. What are your intentions towards Feyre Darling?"

Rhys turned his head in Mor's direction, grinning wolfishly and said, "Oh, I like her! She's a keeper, Mor."

Mor entwined her hand with Andromache's and said, "That she is." Mor bit her bottom lip, nearly glowing with happiness.

"Mind if we join you?" a familiar voice asked. Feyre's head whipped around, a grin spreading across her face. She jumped up, wrapping her arms around her friend's neck.

"Cauldron, they got to you too. You've been corrupted. You're a hugger now," Lucien scoffed, though his eyes crinkled with happiness.

She smacked his arm playfully and huffed, "Don't be rude, Luci."

"Now where's the fun in that?" he teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

She raised a brow sassily and said, "Are you going to introduce me to your boyfriend, or am I going to have to introduce myself?"

"You must be Feyre. I'm Andras. It's nice to meet you," the gentleman beside Lucien chuckled, thrusting his hand out for her to shake.

"Nice to meet you Andras," she said with a warm smile.

"Are these seats taken?" Lucien asked, pointing towards the two empty chairs situated between Az and Rhys.

Rhys's expression darkened, eyes narrowing as he said bitterly, "They're all yours." Feyre wished she understood what had happened between Rhys and Cassian, to cause such a rift in their relationship. She squeezed his hand reassuringly, letting him know she was there for him. He would tell her, when he was ready. Lucien strolled over to the seat beside Rhys and plopped down, leaving the chair besides Az for Andras. Lucien narrowed his brows as he scrutinized her boyfriend. Her stomach gave an excited little flip at the word. Boyfriend. A grin spread across her face.

"Rhysand, so what exactly are your intentions for Feyfey here?" Lucien asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Mor and Andromache roared with laughter. Karma, it seemed, was in fact a bitch.

"Oh, behave yourself," Andras chided, shooting a nervous glance in Rhys's direction.

"Well, if you must know, I'm just waiting for Feyre Darling's proposal. Then, we'll buy a house, have 3 kids, the whole deal," he smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Feyre turned crimson as she turned to look at Rhys and purred, "As I said earlier, it's rather presumptuous to assume I'll propose to you." Her bravado almost faltered as his hand grasped her knee lightly.

"Oh Feyre Darling, we shall see about that, and I do not intend to play fairly," he said, lazily caressing her inner thigh, eliciting a small gasp from her.

"Cauldron boil and fry me! Get a room you two," Lucien huffed.

As Feyre gazed into Rhys's eyes, blazing with a mixture of both love and lust, Feyre decided she could spend the rest of her life like this, with her true family, and the man she had fallen in love with.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please feel free to leave comments and constructive feedback! I love reading your thoughts! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr- illyrianbeauty


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW- This is pretty much shameless smut. No plot. You have been warned! :)

Part 35- NSFW! 

Feyre groaned as she reached down, removing the stilettos from her feet, now sore from the hours she had spent dancing with Rhys. She should never have let Mor talk her into wearing the Cauldron damned things in the first place.  Dropping them unceremoniously onto the floor, she turned around to face Rhys.  He was standing in the middle of their living room, arms jutting out from his pockets. He was gazing at her with predatory intent, his pupils flaring as he brazenly looked her up and down.  She took a bold step towards him, heat creeping along her neck and cheeks.  

“Thank you Rhyses. For taking me with you tonight,” she said, her voice sounding breathless, rather than the sultry tone she had been hoping for.

He prowled towards her and purred, “I had a wonderful evening Feyre Darling.”  He paused, a wicked glint in his eye, and then said, “Except for the part where you broke up with me, it was a perfect first date.”

“That does not count as a date,” she huffed, closing the distance between them.

“Oh?  Is that so?” he asked, raising a brow.

“A proper first date does not include nosy family members,” she said, daring to run a hand down his jawline.  His eyes blazed as she traced his bottom lip with her thumb. Taking her by surprise, he seized the pad of her finger with his lips, scraping the skin gently with his teeth.  The small action sent shivers down her body, straight to her core.  She bit down on her own bottom lip roughly, holding back the moan that threatened to escape.  He slowly released her finger, giving her a lazy smile.

Snaking her fingers through his belt loops, she smiled deviously as she pulled his body towards hers.  Her heart was beating rapidly as he trailed kisses along her cheek. His hands found their way to her hips, pulling her impossibly closer to him.  The ache that was building in her core was nearly unbearable.  Slowly, as though they had all the time in the world, he brought his lips to hers.  His tongue traced along her bottom lip, both a request and a plea.  She deepened the kiss, reveling in the feel of his lips on hers. His hands roamed down the backs of her legs, causing her to tremble under his touch.  Wrapping her arms around his neck, she grasped the ends of his hair and tugged lightly.  It was as though the tether holding him back had finally snapped.  It was a clash of tongues and teeth.

Rhys’s fingertips skimmed over her thighs, lifting her skirt as he got closer and closer to where she wanted him.  As his fingers grazed the edge of her panties, his hands changed direction and began to explore her backside.  Bastard! He knew what he was doing to her!  He grasped her ass, squeezing roughly as he hoisted her up.  As her legs wrapped around him, she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against her core.  She bucked her hips, grinding against his length.  The moan that came from his mouth matched her own in both need and desire.

Feyre was vaguely aware of him carrying her into his bedroom.  She was consumed by the feel of him, the taste of him.  As they entered the bedroom, he broke the kiss, leaving both of them panting heavily.  She unhooked her legs and he gently set her down, her body sliding against the hard planes of his sculpted chest.

With all the courage she could muster, Feyre slid her dress off her shoulders, letting it pool around her feet.  As Rhys took in her matching lacy bra and panties, she had never felt more beautiful, more desired.  

“You’re exquisite,” he said reverently.  

“You have too many clothes on,” she said, her voice husky, heavy with desire.  He smirked as he began unbuttoning his shirt.  Slowly.  Much too slowly.  Nearly growling in impatience, she stepped towards him, grasping his belt buckle.

“Someone’s a little eager,” he teased, watching her intently as she tossed the belt aside.  She fumbled with the button on his pants for a moment, but soon had it undone.  His impressive length sprang free, her thighs clenched together at the sight of him.  She palmed him, eliciting a loud moan.  He threw back his head, thrusting his hips forward as she stroked him.  While she had been with other men, Rhys was by far the largest she had ever seen. She wanted him inside her, needed to get the length of him inside her.

Feyre released his cock, holding his gaze as she moved backwards.  She paused when the backs of her knees made contact with the bed.  Rhys prowled towards her, a hungry gleam in his eyes.  Feyre reached around, unhooked her bra, and tossed it aside.  His eyes raked over her chest greedily.  His knee brushed against her thigh as he closed the distance between them.  She snaked her arms around his shoulders, brushing her lips against his softy.  He began leaving a trail of kisses and nips along her neck, slowly moving lower.  He cupped her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.  She leaned into his hand, moaning slightly at the sensation.  She could feel the smile on his face as he took her other nipple in his mouth.  Her hands found their way into his hair as he continued to worship her breasts, grazing her nipple lightly with his teeth.  

He pulled away slightly, and asked, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Feyre eased herself onto the bed.  Her eyes, which never left his, burned with desire as she slid her body along the bed.  Spreading her legs farther, she tilted her head. A challenge and an invitation.  

“I’m sure,” she purred, beckoning him with her finger.  He knelt on the bed by her feet, trailing kisses up her leg.  

“Rhys,” she groaned, certain that she would combust with need.  He pushed aside her panties, finding her folds slick with desire.  

“Rhys,” she whined, desperate to ease the ache building in her core.  He bit down on inside of her thigh, simultaneously pressing down on her nub. She threw her head back, bucking her hips in ecstasy.  His fingers explored her slit, as though determined to learn what made her moan. When he pulled his hand away, she whimpered at the loss of his touch.  He slid her thong slowly down her legs, tossing it to the floor.  Rhys slowly nipped and kissed along her body, leaving her a quivering mess.  He nudged her core with his nose, as though asking permission.

“Please,” she moaned.  

At the first flick of his tongue, a sound she didn’t even know she was capable of making erupted out of her.  Her hands once again found his hair, holding him in place as he worked her with his mouth.  He nipped her bud, grazing it lightly with his teeth.  His hands held her hips in place as he feasted on her.  Some garbled version of his name fell from her lips as she shattered to pieces around him.  Her climax slamming through her body, leaving her seeing stars.  He continued stroking her through the aftershocks of her orgasm. She slowly regained her senses, her body limp with pleasure.  Rhys looked at her, a very smug, satisfied expression on his face.  She watched as he reached into the nightstand, pulling out a condom. Thank the Cauldon, she had almost forgotten about using protection.  

When he was finished sliding the condom onto his shaft, Feyre sat up and kissed him deeply, still able to taste herself on his lips. She began to lay back, pulling him along with her.  Rhys positioned himself between her legs, nudging her entrance with his cock.

“What do you want?” he asked, brushing a kiss along her jaw.  

“Rhys,” she moaned, his name a plea on her lips.

“I need to hear you say it,” he said.

“Rhys. I want this. I want you.”  Eyes never leaving hers, he slowly slid in. When he was seated to the hilt, he paused, letting her adjust to his generous length.  

“I’m ok,” she said, digging her heels into him, urging him to move.  He pulled back slightly, and then slammed into her.  His pace he set was relentless.  She met his every thrust, snapping her hips into his.  

“Feyre,” he murmured.  That was all it took for her to fall over the edge a second time.  He found his own release soon after, her name tumbling from his lips.  They clung to each other, panting heavily as the aftermath of their orgasms left them wrecked.

He kissed her brow and whispered, “I love you, Feyre Archeron.”

“I love you too, Rhys,” she said, a smile spreading across her face.  

***

Propping her head up on an elbow, Feyre gazed at the beautiful man beside her.  His fingers were absentmindedly tracing small patterns on the small of her back, sending little shivers skittering across her bare skin.  

“I should get in the shower and then try to get some sleep.  Mor and Andromache are coming over ridiculously early tomorrow,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.  Rhys wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body flush against his.  She grinned as he nuzzled her neck, relieved that she wasn’t the only one feeling reluctant to separate.

“I have a better idea,” he said, nipping lightly at the shell of her ear.

“Hmmmm… and what would that be?” she smirked, tilting her head to the side slightly, allowing him better access to her neck. Her core began to ignite once more as he left a trail of feather light kisses down the column of her throat.  He pulled back slightly, his face mere inches from hers.  The intensity in his eyes nearly took her breath away.

“Stay.”

“I could be persuaded to stay a little bit longer,” she said, barely able to suppress a moan as his hands kneaded her backside sinfully.

Rhys gave her a wolfish grin and said, “Now, what was that you said earlier?  Something about a wall?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... go easy on me! This is my first time writing smut. Please leave constructive criticism and feedback! I love reading your comments! 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr- illyrianbeauty


	36. Epilogue - Rhys’s Point of Vie

Rhys had been apprehensive when he had first broached the subject with Feyre, thinking that she would immediately reject his suggestion.  Cauldron knew she didn’t like surprises, so throwing a party without her knowledge had not been an option, not unless he had wanted to spend the next few weeks sleeping in the guest room, that is.  Since the thought of spending even one night separated from her was unbearable, he had needed to be very careful in how he presented his idea.  Rhys had gone all out for the occasion- cooked all of her favorite foods, bought one of those sugary confections that she and Mor seemed to devour by the pound, and even bought an expensive bottle of wine.

When Feyre had agreed to having their closest friends and family over to celebrate, he had honestly been astonished.  Considering that she hated being the center of attention, he had jumped at the chance to celebrate the GED she had worked so hard to earn, ignoring his initial thought that she had agreed to his plan far too easily. Besides, since she had practically invited the entire town to celebrate when he had graduated from Prythian University back in May, it was the least he could do.  Not only that, Rhys wanted to let her know how amazed he was by her, how proud he was of all that she had accomplished.

He sat back in his chair, happily listening to the conversation around him, feeling quite content with how the afternoon was progressing. True to his word, only their closest friends and family had been invited.  He was lounging around the table with Feyre, Az, Lucien, and Andras.  Mor, Andromache, and Dily were floating around in the pool, having a rather dynamic conversation.  Mor and Andromache looked rather exasperated with what Dily was saying.  Rhys pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily.  Dily had been giving their parents hell lately, or so he had been told.  Perhaps his wayward sister should come stay with them for the weekend.  Maybe they could knock some sense into her, and he was sure his parents could use a weekend to relax.  He’d have to talk to Feyre after the party and run it past her.    

Rhys’s head swiveled in his parent’s direction, where they were manning the grill.  His father had an arm wrapped around his mother’s waist, pressing a kiss to her temple.  His father’s “Kiss the Chef” apron, which his mother had threatened to throw away on many different occasions, had Rhys snorting in amusement.  That is what he wanted with Feyre, dorky apron and all.  He had known since the moment he had met her, that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, to grow old with.      

“Rhys, help me out here.  Talk some sense into your girlfriend,” Lucien huffed, effectively bringing his attention back to the conversation.  He shot Feyre a confused look, eyebrows raising dramatically.  

“Luci is pestering me about my application for Prythian University… again,” she said, sending a withering glare in Lucien’s direction.

“I just don’t understand why you’re hesitating Feyfey.  You always used to talk about the art program there,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table.

“Cauldron, you’re insufferable.  I can’t afford it Lucien, that’s why,” she hissed, giving him a vulgar gesture.  

“Have you looked at getting a scholarship?  You are seriously talented Feyre.  They would be lucky to have you,” Az said, causing Feyre’s cheeks to turn crimson.

“Thanks Az, but painting… it’s more of a hobby than anything else,” she muttered, clearly eager to move on to another topic of conversation.

“That’s bullshit Fey, and you know it.  You’re better than every single one of the professors at that university,” Lucien challenged, crossing his arms over his chest.  

“I think what my boyfriend is trying to say, and rather poorly I might add, is that we just want you to be happy,” Andras said, giving Lucien a pointed look.  

“Rhys, back me up here,” Lucien said, running a hand though his red hair.  As much as Rhys would love to see Feyre continue her art, it was not up to him.  He would not, nor would he ever, act like Tamlin and take away her ability to choose for herself.  

“It’s ultimately Feyre’s decision, Lucien.  I’ll support her in whatever choice she makes.” He paused, looking at Feyre thoughtfully before continuing, “Though, if she wanted to go, do you really think she’d let anything stand in her way?”  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  Feyre snuggled into his chest, giving him a grateful smile.  He leaned towards her, kissing her brow gently.  Cauldron, he loved this woman.    

Lucien snorted, “You have a point Rhys.  She certainly is stubborn.”  Feyre rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at Lucien.

“Babe, I think you’re the last person who should be talking about stubbornness,” Andras said, the corners of his mouth twitching up.  

Lucien barked out a laugh, “True.  Very true. But you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Andras’s eyes sparkled mischievously as he shrugged his shoulders, saying, “Ehhh, I guess not.” Lucien entwined his hand with Andras’s, a smile blooming across his face.

“Why am I always stuck with the lovey dovey couples?” Az asked, sighing dramatically.  Rhys tilted his head back and roared with laughter.  

***

Rhys was growing impatient, eager to finally reveal the gift he had gotten for Feyre.  Looking around the table, it seemed as though everyone had finally finished eating.

Rubbing his hands together in anticipation, he said, “Time for presents!”  

Feyre’s eyes went wide as she stammered, “You didn’t need to get me anything.”  

“No, but we wanted to,” Andromache said, smiling broadly as she reached into her purse.  She pulled out a small box, handing it to Feyre with a dramatic flourish.  

“It’s from the both of us,” Mor said, taking ahold of Andromache’s hand.  Rhys grinned at the sight, grateful his cousin had someone in her life capable of making her so happy.  Turning his attention back to Feyre, he watched her unwrap the small box.

“They’re beautiful,” Feyre squealed, launching herself at Mor and Andromache, enveloping the both of them in a bone crushing hug.  

“Let us see,” Dily said, craning her neck in order to see the gift.  Feyre giggled as she passed the box to her, showing off the earrings inside.  They would go perfectly with… no. He couldn’t go there. Not yet.

“Mine next,” Rhys said, practically vibrating with excitement.  He kissed Feyre’s check lightly, and then handed her an unassuming looking envelope.  

She raised an eyebrow and drawled, “A card. How… original.”

“Just open the damn thing,” he huffed, now feeling unsure of himself.  Was it too much?  Cauldron knew money was a sore subject for her, but he had wanted to do something special.  He watched her expression nervously as she read the card.  She was grinning profusely as she finished, which was to be expected considering the pure cheesiness of its contents.  He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as Feyre began unfolding the piece of paper he had stuck inside, an itinerary for the trip he had arranged for the two of them, which included some of the best art museums the world had to offer.  He watched intently as she read through the list, her eyes growing wider and wider the farther down the page they went.  Shit.  

“I know. I know. I overdid it.  I’ll get the tickets refunded,” Rhys said, fumbling over his words, wishing he hadn’t gone so overboard.  Feyre gazed at him, eyes glistening with tears, and bit her bottom lip.  Bad. This was so bad.  Feyre stood up slowly, not breaking eye contact with him, and sat down on his lap.  His hands reached out, grasping her hips, afraid that if he let go she would disappear, lost to him forever.  Rhys held his breath as she leaned in, pressing her lips gently to his.

“Thank you Rhyses. No one has ever done anything like this for me before.  Ever.”

“But?” he asked, his face falling despite his best efforts to keep his expression as neutral as possible.                  

“I was actually hoping for something else,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears.

“What were you hoping for?” Rhys asked, eyes narrowing slightly.

“My ring,” she whispered, a tear trickling down her cheek.

“What?” he asked, certain his ears were playing tricks on him.  His heart was beating wildly in his his chest, so loud he was certain she could hear it.

“I want my ring, Rhyses. I want to marry you,” Feyre said, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers finding their way into his hair.  Rhys surged forward, capturing her lips with his.  Nothing else existed in that moment, nothing else mattered, apart from Feyre, the woman he loved. The woman he would soon be able to call his wife.  When they finally broke apart, Rhys rested his forehead against hers, needing to be near her, needing to feel her, just to prove to himself that it was real.

“I love you Feyre Archeron,” he said hoarsely, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I love you too Rhys,” Feyre said.  She tilted her head to the side and smirked, “So… do I get my ring now?”

Rhys grinned wolfishly at her and purred, “See? Didn’t I say you would propose to me?”

Feyre rolled her eyes and huffed, “Shut up and kiss me, you prick.”  He was more than happy to oblige her.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe it! I am so emotional right now!!! The last one! This fic has come to mean so much to me! My girl Dilys now owns a large chunk of my heart! Thank you for taking this journey with me! Thank you for all of your love and support! Reading your reactions and comments have been amazing! Thanks again for reading my crazy fic! ~Rachel


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